Crucible Creed
by bambers2
Summary: To save countless lives, to save himself, and to protect the innocent, Dean must fight every deeply ingrained hunting instinct he ever possessed, and save the life of a vampire. Third story in the Angels and Demons series.
1. Chapter 1

_So, this is the third story in my series Angels and Demons...it was probably my favorite to write and favorite in the series so far...hope everyone enjoys it!! bambers;)_

_Crucible: a situation of severe trial, or in which different elements interact to produce something new._

Creed: _to believe, trust, entrust_.

_Chapter One_

Dean was making the drive to Las Vegas in record time, only stopping long enough to gas up the Chevelle Michael had given to him, and grab some food to eat on the road. Unfortunately for him, Dean was finding that Rowan could hold a grudge longer than any normal person could ever possibly manage. Of course the vampire was anything but normal, but still Dean would have thought after the first four to five hundred miles, Rowan would have broken down and started talking to him again.

Unlike Sam, Rowan required little sleep, and that just tended to bother Dean all the more, knowing that the vampire was awake, and still remaining stoically silent. Sure there were times he would engage Joshua in conversation, telling him of long ago days, and of the different places he'd traveled in his very long lifetime. However, if Dean tried to join in on the conversation, Rowan would fall silent and stare out the passenger's side window. After they had passed the six hundred mile mark, Dean was done feeling bad for making the stupid remark about why Rowan was cursed for all eternity, and had now moved on to genuinely pissed off.

Veering off to the side of the road, Dean killed the engine, and nudged his head toward the door. "Get the hell out of my car," he snarled, anger taking a firm hold of him when Rowan didn't budge and gave a curt shake of his head. "Said, get out of my freakin' car. You don't wanna talk to me fine, then you can walk the rest of the damn way to Vegas for all I care."

"Not getting out of the car in the middle of a dark deserted stretch of road," Rowan finally uttered after several long moments of staring at Dean in disbelief. "A person could get killed out here all alone."

"Not really all that worried about you, what with you being an immortal vampire an' all," Dean rejoined, but was inwardly relieved that Rowan was once again talking to him. "Sure if someone whacks off your freakin' head, you'll be able to find it by morning."

"Wasn't talkin about me, Dean." Licking his now present fangs, Rowan grinned devilishly. "Was actually talkin' about the poor person who just happens to pick up a stray hitchhiker, and said hitchhiker just happens to turn out to be a vampire who hasn't eaten in days, an' is damn near starving."

"You wouldn't."

"I'm hungry, Dean." Rowan smirked, deep green eyes gleaming against the darkness. "Even a saintly vampire such as myself has to feed at some point."

"Well, I'll find ya a nice cow pasture, an' you can graze all you want, cause you aren't killin' anyone while I'm around."

"Cow pasture," Rowan scoffed, "do I honestly look like the type of vampire who would bleed a cow dry? That's like ordering a hamburger when what you really want is prime rib."

"Hey, nothin' wrong with burgers, I love 'em."

"Well, then next cow pasture we drive by, feel free to go an' graze to your heart's content, cause I'm holdin' out for prime rib."

Rowan may have been joking, but Dean had no doubt the vampire was hungry, and a hungry vampire was definitely not a good thing, especially one that couldn't be killed. "What if I find you a blood bank?" he asked, needing to remedy the situation as quickly as possible before Rowan's killer instincts got the better of him. "Can ya hold out that long?"

"Huh, do you think blood banks have take out? An if they do, an I ordered Chinese, do you think they would get my order right, or would I get stuck with plain old American cuisine?" Rowan laughed as Dean started the engine and pulled back out onto the road. "Had Thai a few times, but found it to be rather spicy. Think if I had a heart, I would've probably had the worst case of heartburn." Rowan continued to chuckle at his own humor, and Dean was forced to roll his eyes as the jokes got worse and worse.

"Think I liked you better when you weren't talkin' to me," Dean muttered under his breath, listening to the vampire make up for lost time, rambling on about every topic under the sun. However, since the vampire was in a talkative mood, Dean decided to broach the one subject he'd been mulling over since he'd seen the news report about Bela's body being found. "Rowan, what do you know of Bela's death?"

"I know that you think Sam killed her," Rowan replied evasively, then glanced over his shoulder at Joshua who was sleeping in the back seat of the Chevelle. "Man, that little guy sure can sleep when he wants to, but tuck him in bed, an' he's all over the place," he said, trying to change the subject.

"Why can't you just tell me what happened?"

"Cause maybe it's just better if you go on believing Sam killed her." Rowan heaved an aggravated groan as he brusquely raked his fingers through his hair. He began to fidget restlessly in his seat, his gaze wavering back and forth across the stretch of road. Leaning forward in his seat, he narrowed his eyes, searching for something beyond the scope of the Chevelle's headlights. "Dean, stop the car," he abruptly ordered, and when Dean slammed on the brakes, veering off to the side of the road, Rowan flung open the door, and leapt out of the vehicle. Dean quickly grabbed for his Colt 1911 in the glove compartment, and followed the vampire.

"What is it?" Dean asked as he swung all the way around, but saw nothing except the occasional outline of a stray catus or boulder. From the light reflecting from the pale moon, he could also make out the Calico Hills off in the distance, but still could not see anything that he would consider a threat. Yet, Rowan still stalked back and forth, growing more and more restless and riled as the moments ticked by. "Anytime you feel like sharin' what the hell we're lookin' for, I'm all ears."

"Damn, it, Dean, get back in the car," Rowan snapped as he continued to search through the darkness for some unseen enemy. "Trust me, you really don't want to be out here."

"Not goin' anywhere," Dean adamantly refused with a curt shake of his head. Hearing a sound off to the right, he raised his gun, and aimed it in that direction. Slowly, shadows took form from out of the night, and crept ever closer as if they had all the time in the world to stalk their prey, and were just enjoying the hunt and fear their presence created. "Damn it, tell me what we're going up against here."

"You are not going up against anything." Rowan grabbed hold of Dean's arm, and tried to drag him back to the Chevelle. "You're job is to protect Josh, so get in the damn car an' get him the hell out of here . . . now!"

Dean jerked free of Rowan's grasp, and swung to glare at him. "So, you want me to just leave you here?"

"That's what I just said," Rowan replied as if the answer should be obvious.

"So not gonna happen," Dean argued, planting his feet firmly on the ground, not about to take another step. "If these things can hurt Jay, then I'm not just gonna walk away, an' trust in the fact that you can handle them by yourself."

"They're not after Josh, they don't even know about him yet," Rowan narrowed his eyes, and watched as the creatures inched ever closer. "They're comin' for me . . . that's why you need to get the hell out of here."

"Why would they be after you, not like they can kill ya?" Dean asked, not liking the worried frown now creasing his friend's brow.

"The one in the lead," Rowan gestured at the tallest of the growing shadows, "his name is Killeon Gallagher, an' believe me when I say, he's not someone you want to mess with."

Dean thought back to all the research the Winchester's had ever done, trying to recall if they'd come across the name, but couldn't remember ever hearing it before. "Never hear of him. So what is he?"

"Well, I'm sure you've heard of Jack the Ripper, right?" Rowan was silent for a moment, apparently mulling over how many details he wanted to share with Dean about the creature in question, and then finally replied, "Killeon was one of the few people I ever turned. Definitely not one of my smarter moves."

"So you turned a homicidal maniac into an even deadlier homicidal maniac?" Dean stared incredulously at his friend, not quite believing what he was hearing. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"You don't understand, Dean," Rowan argued, "I used to be able to control him . . . why the hell do you think all the murders stopped even though he was never found?"

"Why didn't ya just kill him when you had the chance?"

"Because I was his little pet," the man in the center of the group called out to Dean as he came into clear view, and although he knew it was useless, Dean still aimed his gun directly at the man's chest.

The vampire exuded a cocksure arrogance as he swaggered toward Dean, and blew a gray plume of cigarette smoke in the hunter's face. He flicked the cigarette away and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, in a show that he wasn't the least bit intimidated by Rowan. Like Rowan, Killeon wore a long black leather trench coat, but unlike the older vampire, Killeon wore no shirt beneath it to hide his taut muscular chest and abs. Long silver chains dangled from his neck, some with thick ornamental crosses, others with ancient symbols, and one that looked like two handcuffs locked together.

Whereas the younger vampire looked very similar to Rowan in a lot of ways, there was a darkness about him that Dean hadn't ever noticed in Rowan. His eyes, the color of dark chocolate, glistened with the reflection of the pale moon, enigmatic and dangerous. His dark bangs, parted in an angular fashion, trailed down over his left eye to rest just below his cheek, which for reason made him appear all the more lethal.

Killeon sniffed in the air and then licked his lips in anticipation. "Thought you might be his newest little plaything, but perhaps you're his dinner instead." The group now surrounding them laughed at Killeon's taunt. "You know, Rowan, I could smell you comin' from well over a hundred miles away, must be losin' your touch in your old age."

Rowan gestured to Dean, and then eyed Killeon, his gaze turning deadly. "Let him go, an' I'll come with you. Hurt him in the slightest, an' I'll kill you all where you stand," here he hesitated, waiting for his threat to sink in fully, and then further added, "do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Rowan — "

"Shut up, Dean," Rowan barked the ordered, cutting Dean off before he had the chance to argue.

"Dean?" Killeon stepped forward, and looked Dean up and down as if trying to decide how his blood would taste once spilled from his veins. "As in Dean Winchester?" He glanced in Rowan's direction, and when Rowan cursed under his breath and lowered his head to the side, Killeon burst out laughing. He hitched thumb in Dean's direction as he continued to laugh. "This guy here is legendary, aren't you, Dean?" When Dean failed to rise to the bait, he continued on, "See, he sold his soul to save his brother, then little brother dearest turned into quite the killing machine didn't he, Winchester? An' from what I hear, they're still finding the bodies from his little killing spree."

"My brother didn't kill anyone," Dean snarled, hand clenching tightly around his gun.

"Oh, that's right, the devil made him do it . . . literally." He chuckled even harder, seeing the effect his words had on Dean. "Tell me, how does it feel to know you sold your soul for a vicious killer, Dean?"

"Don't listen to him," Rowan hissed, taking a step toward Killeon, "remember what I said, it's a matter of faith . . . what do you believe in your heart about your brother — "

"Oh, words of wisdom from Judas himself," Killeon scoffed, "still tryin' to make amends, huh?"

"So are you gonna let Dean go?" Rowan asked, ignoring Killeon's insults, "or do I have to make good on my threat?"

"Killeon, don't let him go," a young-looking blond-haired female vampire practically whined as she eyed Dean, "I'm starvin' an' he looks — "

Before she even had a chance to finish what she was saying, Rowan shot forward, gripped a hold of the sides of her head, viciously yanked it to the side, and with strength Dean hadn't known the vampire possessed, Rowan ripped her head clear from her body. Eyes never straying from Killeon, Rowan tossed the girl's head into the brush as her body slumped to the ground, and wiped her blood off on his pants.

"Now are ya gonna let him go, or do I have to continue killing your little clan of murderers?"

"How do I know I can trust you won't kill the rest of my family once I let him go?" Killeon questioned as he looked to the dead vampire's body. "From what I recall you're not the most trustworthy of vampires."

"Dean, go an' get the handcuffs out of the trunk," Rowan ordered, but Dean refused to budge from his spot. Still not taking his sights off of Killeon, he further added, "once he's gone, I'll let you cuff me."

"You're just gonna give yourself up for a human?" Killeon said in clear disbelief. "You really have changed."

"Haven't changed that much," Rowan turned his back on Killeon and strode to the back of the Chevelle, motioning for Dean to follow. Once there, he lowered his voice and muttered, "Listen to me cause I'm not gonna say this twice. You get in this car, and drive as far away from here as possible. Don't come back an' whatever the hell you do, don't come lookin' for me."

"Why does he want you so badly?"

"Revenge . . . wants to make me suffer."

For a brief moment, Dean could've sworn he saw a look of fear in his friend's eyes, but as quickly as it was there it vanished as he tried to smile. Rowan made as if to say something more, but before he had the chance, Killeon gripped hold of him from behind, his fist clenching firmly around Rowan's hair as forcefully jerked his head backward, exposing the veins in his neck. With a look of triumph, Killeon sunk his fangs into Rowan's throat, blood spurting as he gorged himself on Rowan's blood.

Without a moment's hesitation, Dean swung out at the vampire, slamming his fists into Killeon's back and sides repeatedly as Rowan cried out in pain. Instead of fighting back, Killeon sunk his teeth deeper into the side of Rowan's throat as Rowan began to tremble uncontrollably. Out of options, Dean grabbed for his gun, aimed and fired at the vampire, the blast throw both Rowan and Killeon to the ground.

Killeon was back on his feet in a shot, and smirked at Dean as he wiped the blood from his lips. Rowan on the other hand, lay writhing on the ground, his trembling fingers covering the gaping wounds in his neck.

"Could kill you right now," Killeon sneered, drawing Dean's attention back to him, "but like Rowan said, this is all about revenge. An' since he seems to care so damn much about you, I'm gonna let ya keep him." Without another word, Killeon turned on his heel and strode away, his family following after him.

As soon as Dean was certain they were gone, he dropped to the ground beside Rowan, and was not surprised to find that the wounds had already begun to heal over. Yet, his friend still continued to convulse, twitching and jerking erratically as a deep deathlike rattle came from within his chest. A muffled sob of pain ripped from Rowan's lips as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, tears slipping down the sides of his face.

"What the hell did he do to you?"

"Oh, God . . . D-Dean . . . it hurts . . . h-hurts so damn bad . . . ." Rowan gripped hold of Dean's hand, and clenched it tightly as he continued to writhe around on the ground. Suddenly Rowan's body went limp, his hand falling loosely away from Dean's as his head lolled to the side.

"Rowan?" Dean shook him gently at first, but when his friend didn't move, he shook him all the harder "Damn it, Rowan, you're the only friend I got . . . you can't do this to me." Hooking his arm around Rowan's waist, Dean hauled him to his feet, and dragged the vampire back to his car. Carefully setting him down on the passenger's seat, he slammed the door and ran around to the driver's side. Once inside the Chevelle, Dean cast a worried glance at his friend, waiting for some subtle movement or any sign that he would be all right, but saw nothing.

"Damn it all to hell, thought you said you couldn't die," Dean let out another slew of curse words as he started the car, quickly made a u-turn and gunned the engine, heading back in the direction he'd just come from. He wasn't exactly sure where he should take Rowan, but knew heading toward Vegas was not an option any longer. "You freakin' better not die on me, you hear me, Rowan? Not about to lose you . . . not out here . . . not like this."


	2. Chapter 2

SO my computer has totally crashed and burned...somehow I managed to get this to post on here so here it is...For anyone reading any of my other stories, I won't be able to get to any of them until i get a new motherboard...hopefully sometime this week!! So next chappy for anyone who was wondering what happened to Rowan in the last chappy!! thanks again for reading and for all the really great reviews!! it means the world to me!!

Chapter Two

Joshua began to stir in the backseat of the Chevelle, yawning and rubbing his eyes as the bright morning sun filled the car with light. The moment he'd wiped the sleep from his eyes, he began fidgeting restlessly in his seat, and within a moment he unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed forward in his seat, tapping Dean on the shoulder in an urgent fashion.

"Gotta go pee, Chipmunk."

"Can you hold it a bit," Dean asked as he glanced over at Rowan, and cursed under his breath when he noticed how deathly pale he appeared. He'd been holding out hope all night that by morning the vampire would be back to his normal irritating self, but if anything, Rowan now appeared as if he'd passed away somewhere in the early hours before sunrise.

"Gotta go now," Joshua whined, and by the pained expression that crossed his features, Dean knew he'd better pull over fast or on top of everything else, he would be cleaning the backseat of the Chevelle.

With a irritated groan, Dean veered off to the side of the road, and had barely put the car in park before the back door flung wide open and Joshua leapt out and rushed to hide behind the nearest tree. As he waited, Dean recalled everything Rowan had ever said to him, looking for a solution as to why he wasn't getting better now, but couldn't think of a single explaination. Rowan had said he was cursed, could never die, and had pretty much proven that when Dean had cut off his head with a jagged shard of mirror, only to have the vampire turn up the next morning as if nothing had ever happened. So why was this time any different from that? By all accounts, Dean figured cutting off Rowan's head seemed more permanent than being bitten by a vampire, especially since Rowan was already a vampire.

"Damn it, Rowan, wake the hell up, so you can help me figure this out." Dean scrubbed a hand across his two day's growth of stubble, and heaved a bone-weary sigh. Dean wished more than anything that he could call Sam, knowing that his little brother would be able to use his computer geek-boy skills and probably have an answer to their problem within a few hours time. But without that being an option, Dean was left with few alternatives, and none of them sounded very appealing.

If he went to Michael looking for help, the archangel would more than likely turn him away, but not before verbally upbraiding him on his new choice in traveling companions. And would further accuse him of putting Joshua's life at risk, which Dean was certain would be very long and drawn out speech, containing all the things Dean had done wrong over the past month. So pretty much going to Michael for help was out of the question.

"D-Dean," came a breathless whisper from beside him, and Dean hastily swivelled in his seat to look at Rowan. Rowan slowly lifted his head and it dropped backward onto the headrest before once again lolling to the side. "Told ya to leave me," he rasped, then coughed repeatedly, blood trickling down from the corner of his lips. "Why the hell didn't you listen?"

"Figured why start now." Dean grinned but it quickly faded when he noticed that Rowan's red-rimmed eyes, which were normally a deep brilliant shade of green, now appeared to be a shade or two lighter. The whites of the vampire's eyes were lined with thin veins of blood as if he'd pulled an all nighter and was now suffering for it.

Josh, done with going to the bathroom, sprinted back to the car and nearly dove into the backseat. Shutting the door, he hopped over the seat, and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. He turned and hugged Rowan, and instantly recoiled when a low growl escaped from the vampire's lips.

"Uncle Rowan growled at me, Chipmunk," Joshua whimpered, looking as if he might cry. "An' his eyes are all goofy."

"Jay, get in the backseat and buckle up," Dean ordered, and cast a stern look in Joshua's direction when the little boy opened his mouth to argue. "We've got a long drive ahead of us, an' I'm gonna be drivin' like a bat outta freakin' hell, so I don't argue with me."

Dean was just about to turned the key in the ignition when he noticed Rowan reaching for the door handle. With what little strength Rowan seemed to have left, he weakly opened the car door, and was about to climb out when Dean grabbed hold of his arm, effectively stopping his friend from leaving.

"You're not goin' anywhere."

"Beggin' ya to leave me here, Dean," Rowan's low raspy voice turned to pleading as he began to shiver, "jus' leave me here, please."

"What's wrong with you?" Dean's brows pulled together as he closely scrutinized his friend.

"Ch-changin'." Rowan shuddered, teeth chattering loudly. "Th-that's why you've g-gotta leave me."

"Changing to what?" Dean quirked a brow, thoroughly confused, and yet Rowan seemed to know exactly what was happening to him.

"First vampire," Rowan swallowed hard, then licked the blood away from his lips. "Blood was pure . . . untainted."

"So what does that mean?"

"Kinda . . . kinda like a dog gettin' bit by a rabid raccoon . . . without a cure it loses its mind . . . turns vicious . . . kills." Rowan tried desperately to jerk free of Dean's grasp but at the moment wasn't strong enough to accomplish it. "Please . . . don't wanna hurt you . . . don't wanna hurt Josh."

"How do we fix this?" Dean replied stoically, not about to let Rowan give up. He'd helped Dean countless times, and had only asked for one thing in return, and when Dean refused to give the vampire his amulet, Rowan had continued to help him nonetheless. "Not about to let this happen to you, you understand? Gonna fix this."

"Can't fix it, Dean," Rowan mumbled, his eyelids fluttering open and closed. "It is what it is . . . an' for what it's worth, I did try t-to change."

"No, you have changed, an' I'm not about to accept this." Dean's mind raced to find some glimmer of hope for Rowan to hold on to, but without a cure, he knew his friend was pretty much screwed all to hell. Another thought flashed through his mind, and his stomach began to churn as he gripped even tighter to Rowan's sleeve. Rowan couldn't die. He couldn't die and he was changing into the perfect killing machine. If Dean couldn't stop this from happening, Rowan could conceivably go on murdering people indefinitely. There would be no stopping him, no second chances to make things right.

"If I can't find a cure . . . if we can't fix this . . . I mean, there's a helluva lot of people . . . guhh . . . damn it, Rowan, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"Don't you think I already know that? That's why you have to take Josh an' get the hell out of here." Clutching his stomach, Rowan hunched over, and squeezed his eyes shut as another cry of pain tore from his lips.

"You fight this, damn it. Fight it with all your worth, got me?" When Dean saw Rowan give a subtle nod, he further added, "Gonna get you some help. You just hang on." Dean reached around him, slammed the door shut, then started the car and peeled out onto the road, heading toward the home of the one person he knew he could rely upon to help.

Dean drove all day and far into the night, spurned on by Rowan's increasing cries of pain. For his part, Joshua tried his best to keep Rowan calm, telling him silly little stories while Dean kept his mind on finding a solution to their current problem. Although for the life of him, Dean couldn't think of one thing that would help Rowan.

At around three a.m. they crossed the stateline entering South Dakota, and drove the familiar path toward Bobby's house and salvage yard. It was about another forty-five minute drive until they finally pulled into the driveway of the salvage yard, and Dean cursed as he heard Bobby's dog, Rumsfeld, barking out a warning. The lights instantly went on inside Bobby's house, and Dean knew the older hunter was probably grabbing for his shotgun at this very moment.

Rowan slowly raised his head and peered at the house, and then looked to Dean. "Where are we?"

"An' old friend's house," Dean replied, and when he saw the look of worry cross Rowan's overly-pale features, he further added, "if anyone can help, it's Bobby."

"Already told ya, there's nothing that can be done."

"An' I already told you, you're gonna be fine," Dean glanced up just in time to see Bobby open the door and step onto the landing of the stairs, shotgun in hand. Swallowing back his own growing fear of seeing Bobby again for the first time since he'd supposedly died, Dean went on to say, "Me on the other had, I have to explain to one very pissed off Bobby Singer why a supposed dead guy, a vampire and the golden child are showing up in his driveway at four in the freakin' morning. An' I can tell ya this much, it's not gonna be a fun conversation. Loads of Christos bein' flung about, an' then the swearin' will start, an' if I'm real damn lucky, an' I mean real damn lucky, I won't get a load of buckshot in me before the night is through." Dean heaved a groan knowing that he was being very accurate in his description of how Bobby would react to seeing him again.

"You can't do this, Dean," there was clear warning in Rowan's weak, raspy voice, "he could tell Sam that you're alive."

"Naww . . . he'll understand once I explain everything to him." In truth, Dean had worried about the same thing the whole drive there, and hated putting Bobby in the position of lying to Sam, but had no other choice. Opening the car door, Dean turned to Rowan, and ordered, "You stay here until I smooth things over a bit." Dean let out a wry laugh, wondering how the hell he was going to smooth over the fact that he'd brought a rabid vampire to Bobby's house.

Dean eased out of the car, and raised his hands out to the sides as Bobby leveled his shotgun directly on Dean's chest. Heart hammering away inside his chest, Dean slowly edged closer to the front porch. "Bobby, it's me . . . Dean," he called out, and stopped dead in his tracks as Bobby's finger tensed on the trigger, and fired a warning shot, narrowly missing Dean by mere inches. "Damn it, Bobby, it's me, put the freakin' gun down."

"Dean's dead, ya sonuvabitch." Bobby leveled his gun on Dean's heart again, and Dean knew this time wouldn't be a warning shot.

Thinking fast, Dean uttered, "Christo me, for Christ's sake . . . I'm not a freakin' demon."

For what seemed the longest time, Bobby was silent as he studied every little aspect of Dean. "Christo," he shouted, and when Dean remained perfectly still, he said it three more times with the same reaction from Dean. "Where'd ya get the car?" he asked suspiciously as he nudged his head in the direction of the sleek black Chevelle.

"Wouldn't believe me if I told ya," Dean responded with a grin, knowing that Bobby would definitely shoot him if he was actually crazy enough to tell him that Archangel Michael was the benefactor of his newest transportation. "Guess you could say I'm earnin' my wings the hard way."

"An' the deal?" Bobby narrowed his eyes on Dean, scrutinizing him more closely. "How'd ya break it? Sam tried for a whole damn year, an' couldn't find a single thing to save ya. An' now ya just show up here out of nowhere an' expect me to believe you accomplished what he couldn't do in all that time?"

"It's complicated." Dean took a tentative step forward, and stopped abruptly when he noticed Bobby's trigger finger twitch. "Another deal . . . made another damn deal, okay?"

"Now that, I would believe." Bobby lowered his weapon. "You damn Winchesters never know when to quit makin' deals do ya?"

"God, you don't know how much I've missed you," Dean strode the rest of the way to Bobby, and dropping his weapon, the older hunter caught Dean in a huge bear hug, nearly suffocating him. "Ummm . . . can't breathe here," Dean muttered, but was grinning ear to ear as Bobby drew back away from him and looked Dean over thoroughly.

Bobby glanced toward the Chevelle and as he did, he discreetly wiped away the tears Dean saw shimmering in his eyes. "An' who's that with ya," he asked, voice thick with emotion. "Or don't I wanna know?"

"Bobby, I've got a big problem, an' you were the only one I could think of to turn to." He turned to look in Rowan's direction, and raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of how to explain about Rowan and Joshua to Bobby. "A lot of people will die if I don't figure this out . . . an' when I say a lot, I mean more people than you can possibly imagine."

"Why didn't you ask Sam for help?" Bobby asked the question Dean had been expecting and dreading at the same time. "He's been missin' ya somethin' fierce."

"Can't do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"He can't . . . my deal with . . . I just can't . . . ." Dean's voice trailed off, knowing he was stumbling over his words. He also realized the older hunter was growing angrier by the moment if the deep-set frown on his face was any indication. "He just has to believe I'm dead for now."

Bobby made as if to argue, but the sound of the Chevelle's passenger door creaking open, and Rowan stumbling out of it, only to fall on the ground, effectively put an end to anything he might have said on the matter. Rowan gripped hold of the door and struggled to get to his feet. Staggering toward Dean and Bobby, the vampire stumbled and fell again. Dean hastily rushed to his friend's side, hooked an arm around Rowan's waist and hauled him to his feet.

"Hungry, Dean," Rowan mumbled, "so goddamn hungry . . . n-need to . . . gotta get away from here."

Rowans lips quivered as he opened his mouth to speak again, and upon seeing his fangs piercing through his gums, Dean glanced around furiously to find a place that might be able to contain the vampire until he figured things out. Although Rowan was weak and suffering now, there was no doubt in Dean's mind that the vampire would soon regain his strength, and desperately needed to do something before that happened. From what he'd witnessed as his friend had ripped the head off the other vampire as if it was as easy as tearing a piece of paper apart, Dean thoroughly understood that it wasn't going to be easy restraining Rowan.

"Bobby, need handcuffs, at least two sets of them if not more," Dean ordered, and was about to say more when Rowan cut him off.

"Not gonna work, D-Dean, needs to be stronger." Rowan's knees buckled, and if it had not been for Dean holding him upright, the vampire would have landed face first into the gravel. His fangs sliced through his lower lip, blood spilling down his chin, and Dean glanced up just in time to see the look that crossed Bobby's features.

"He's a damn vampire," Bobby shouted, brown eyes turning stormy as he glared at Dean and hastily reached for his shotgun.

"Already freakin' know that, Bobby, an' I need ya to help me restrain him," Dean hastily replied, knowing he didn't have time to argue with Bobby about Rowan at the moment.

"Damn it, boy, what the hell's wrong with you? Ya don't restrain a vamp, ya cut off its freakin' head."

"Probably would try that if I didn't think he'd be really pissed off when he wakes up tomorrow," Dean grumbled, and as he saw the deep scowl settle across Rowan's pale features, he further added, "Well, ya had to know I would think of it, Rowan. Not like I got a whole helluva lot of options here."

"As long as ya decided against it," Rowan grasped hold of his neck and rubbed it as if recalling the jagged mirror slicing through his throat, "cause that hurt like a sonuvabitch the last time."

"Well, ya deserved it for taking Jay from me," Dean argued, then cracked a weary grin. "So if not handcuffs, what can we try?"

"Hawthorn," both Bobby and Rowan said almost simultaneously.

"Stake it through my wrists, an' into blessed ground." Rowan grimaced, trembling as if in fear of what he'd just suggested. "Then one through my heart, an' two more through my ankles."

Listening to what his friend said, and seeing the look of utter trepidation in Rowan's now pale green eyes, Dean shook his head. "No, not gonna do that to you. There's gotta be another way."

"Ya really think if there was another way, I'd go straight for the one that's gonna hurt like hell?" Rowan tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a pain-filled cough. When Dean still hesitated, Rowan drew in a deep breath and continued, "Look, Dean, I don't like this either, but it's the only way I can think of. An' truthfully, it probably won't hold me for all that long. So if we're gonna do this, we better do it now, while I'm still too weak to put up much of a fight."

"Well, I'm one for stakin' the bastard," Bobby uttered in complete agreement, clearly not realizing how much it would hurt Dean to have to stake his friend into the ground.

"Shut the hell up, Bobby, you don't know what the freakin hell you're talkin' about," Dean snapped, and immediately regretted it. "Sorry, Bobby, it's just that . . . well, I mean . . . damn it, he's my friend." At the look of surprise registering on both mens' face, Dean heaved a weary groan. "Damn it, would ya both stop looking at me like that. Not like you didn't know we were friends, Rowan."

"We are?" Rowan chuckled in amusement, "See, cause I've always just considered you as a pain in my ass. An' now you've gone an' ruined it by declaring some sort of undying friendship for me." He feigned a shudder. "Seriously, this may take some getting use to. I mean, you're kinda clingy, not to mention needy. Then there's that whole callin' each other on the cell phone thing. You know the whole wanna hang out thing. I really don't do hanging out."

"Don't have to worry about that, Rowan, cause I don't ever plan on callin' ya on the phone to hang out," Dean grumbled. "An' ya know, this whole stakin' ya to the ground thing is starting to sound a helluva lot more appealing now."

"Only one problem there, Dean," Bobby interjected, "where we gonna find blessed ground where no one is gonna just happen to stumble upon him?"

At first Dean thought of a graveyard, but quickly dismissed the notion, knowing people often visited their departed loved ones there. Also churches were out of the question as well, along with any other place that might have had blessed ground. Dean glanced around at all the cars, tires and twisted metal cluttering up the salvage yard, and an idea struck him.

"Get some holy water, Bobby, we're gonna turn your backyard into blessed grounds."

"You out of your freakin' mind, boy." Bobby stared at him incredulously. "Last time I checked I wasn't a priest."

"But you have blessed water, an' you sure as hell know the Latin Ritual to do the job," Dean argued, liking the sound of his plan more and more by the moment. Well, except for the part of actually staking Rowan to the ground. "Come on, Bobby, if there was any where else we could do this, I would suggest it, but this is our only option."

For a moment, it appeared as if the older hunter would reject the idea, but then Bobby turned on his heel and headed inside his house, only to return with two flasks of holy water and a book of Latin rituals. Dean strode to his car, gathered Joshua into his arms, brought him inside Bobby's house, and laid the sleeping child down on the bed in the guest bedroom. Once he was sure Joshua was all settled in, Dean hurried back outside to help Bobby.

Rowan was leaning up against the stairs when Dean came around the backside of the house. Bobby was busy at work, blessing the ground, and Dean noticed how Rowan visibly winced at every word of Latin that spewed from the older hunter's mouth. On the ground beside Rowan there were several long stakes, and Dean could tell that the vampire was trying his damnedest not to look at them.

"You sure," Dean asked as he laid a comforting hand on Rowan's shoulder. "I mean, we could find another way. The handcuffs could hold you, ya never know."

"Believe me, Dean, I know," Rowan uttered like a man condemned. "Jus' . . . well, if this doesn't work, just promise me, you'll take Josh an' get as far away from here as you possibly can."

"You know I can't do that," Dean stubbornly refused.

"Wasn't a request, Dean. I will kill you." The pained look in Rowan's eyes clearly said more than his words could. "I'll kill Josh, and everyone else around here. You won't be able to stop me."

"Wouldn't have risked coming to Bobby's if I didn't think he could help. We're gonna find a cure for you."

Before Rowan had the chance to say anything else, Bobby finished the ritual, set aside both flasks of holy water, and headed over to gather the Hawthorn stakes.

"Sun will be up soon, better get this done an' over with," Bobby muttered, grabbing a heavy mallet off the back porch.

Dean made as if to follow Bobby back to the holy ground, but Rowan grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him. He swung back to look at Rowan and saw the fear that clearly registered in the vampire's eyes.

"Please, jus' . . . please, just don't let Josh see me like this . . . an' tell him . . . God, just tell him I'm sorry I growled at him. Never meant to . . . couldn't control it."

"Not gonna let him see ya," Dean promised with a curt nod.

"Thanks, Dean." Rowan was silent for a moment, unshed tears brimming in his eyes. "An' what I said before . . . well, you're the best friend I got . . . an' for what it's worth, I think they're all wrong about you."

Without another word, Rowan bravely strode to where Bobby was waiting, and laid down, spreading his arms out to the side, wrists facing upward. Dean followed at a much slower pace, knelt beside his friend, and gripped hold of Rowan's hand.

As Bobby placed the stake against Rowan's wrist and raised the mallet to pound it through, Rowan turned his head to the side, tears now slipping freely down his face. Somewhere in the distance, Rumsfeld howled as Rowan's cries pierced the night as the stake pierced his flesh. Dean's grip tightened around Rowan's hand as Bobby moved to drive another stake into the vampire's ankle. Rowan weakly raised his head as if to watch, but Dean pushed on his friend's shoulder, effectively stopping him.

"I gotcha," Dean said in a low tone, his voice sounding severely strained. "You don't wanna — "

What Dean had intended to say was abruptly cut short as Rowan screamed out as the second stake was driven through and shattered his ankle bone.

"Oh God, D-Dean . . . g-gotta stop . . . . " Rowan writhed around, trying desperately to break free of Dean's tight grasp on his hand. "Pl-please . . . it . . .it h-hurts so damn bad."

Bobby hesitated, and looked to Dean as if waiting for him to tell the older hunter if he should continue. Squeezing his eyes closed, Dean gave a curt nod, and flinched when another scream pierced the night. With both legs secured to the ground, Bobby moved to stand beside Dean, and reluctantly Dean let go of Rowan's hand. Amidst the screams and cries of pain coming from Rowan, Bobby nailed the vampire's other wrist into the ground and then grabbed for the last stake.

"N-no," Rowan cried out, looking to Dean. "N-not him . . . y-you do it . . . pl-please."

Dean looked from him to the mallet and stake in Bobby's hands, and then back again. "Don't make me do this, Rowan. Can't do it."

"Pl-please, D-Dean . . . you h-have to," Rowan gasped for breath, blood trickling from his parted lips as it spilt from his ankles and wrists. "O-only fr-friend I got . . . ."

For several long moments, Dean just stood there frozen to his spot, and then very reluctantly, he took the mallet and stake from Bobby and dropped to his knees beside Rowan. As a lone tear snaked a path down his cheek, Dean turned his head to the side, lifted the mallet and drove the stake through his best friend's heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks so much for reading and for reviewing!! I hope everyone is still enjoying the series!! Bambers;)_

_Chapter Three_

For the longest time, Dean sat on the back steps with his head lowered, listening to the whimpers and agonizing cries of pain coming from Rowan as he writhed and squirmed beneath the Hawthorn stakes. With each blood-curdling scream from Rowan, a little more guilt ate away at Dean's heart at having to hurt his friend, but knew he had no choice.

Bobby had sat with him for a while, but apparently sensing Dean needed some time alone after what he'd done, the older hunter had made the excuse of going inside to make some coffee, and made a hasty retreat into his house. When Bobby hadn't returned, Dean realized it had really bothered the older man to hurt Rowan when the vampire had made no attempt to fight him in the least.

When Rowan finally succumbed to his pain, passing out cold, Dean wearily got to his feet and headed inside to join Bobby. He found Bobby sitting at the kitchen table, head lowered, sipping a cup of coffee. Dean went to the cupboard, grabbed himself a mug and poured a cup of the steaming hot liquid. Slumping down onto the chair opposite of Bobby, he waited for all the questions that he'd been dreading to begin. He didn't have to wait long.

"So what the hell kind of deal did ya make now?" Bobby grumbled, eyeing Dean for a moment before he lowered his head again to take another gulp of his coffee.

"Don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Dean bit pensively at his lower lip as he tried to figure out how to tell Bobby about Jay and his deal with Michael. "You believe in angels, Bobby," Dean finally blurted out, "well, not just angels, but a higher power that controls everything, good and bad?"

Bobby scrubbed his hand through his scruffy beard as he contemplated what Dean had asked, and then let out a deep sigh. "Believe there are some things that can't be explained. An' I guess I'd have to say that if I believe in demons, I'd have to leave room for belief in a higher power, too."

Dean gave a nod, relieved to find that Bobby did have faith in a higher power, and hoped it would make his situation easier to explain. "Wasn't exactly a deal. More like the demon had no right to hold claim over my soul as it wasn't mine to begin with."

"Boy, what the hell are you talkin' about?" Bobby tipped back his trucker cap, and looked Dean directly in the eyes, pinning him with a stare that clearly was designed to get the answers he wanted.

"Went to the crossroads to meet the demon, but when I got there, she wasn't there." Dean hesitated, and cleared his throat, feeling more than a little apprehensive at the thought of explaining Michael to Bobby. Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward, wanting to be done with it before he lost his nerve. "Instead, Archangel Michael was there. Said I was a Guardian of a little boy named Joshua, and that I had no right to sell my soul as it wasn't mine to give."

Bobby gave a curt nod of understanding as he gestured toward the guest bedroom. "The little boy you brought in here."

"Yeah, an' now I have to watch over him until my time is done."

"An' how long is that for?"

"Six months . . . have to take care of him for six months, an' then I'm free."

Bobby gave another nod as he pushed back in his seat and fold his arms over his stomach. "An' what about Sam?"

Dean lowered his head, all traces of a smile slipping from his face as he thought of his brother. "If he finds out I'm alive before I finish guarding Jay, the deal is broken an' I go to Hell."

"So instead of you bein' in Hell, just your brother is," Bobby said bluntly, not trying in the least to hide the anger in his tone. "Do you have any idea how broken he is thinkin' you're dead?"

"Looks like he's doin' just fine without me," Dean argued, his own temper flaring at the thought of Sam just picking up and moving on without him. "Got himself a new hunting partner even before I was cold in the ground."

"Who, Jax?" Bobby stared at him incredulously. "Got it all wrong, Jax hasn't replaced you in the slightest."

"Heard Sam call him his brother in the hospital. If that's not replacing me, I don't know what the hell is."

"So you've been spying on him?" Bobby's brows furrowed together as he shook his head in disgust.

"It's not like that — "

"Oh, I think it's exactly like that," Bobby shot back before Dean had a chance to explain. "So you see you're brother takin' care of someone who's hurt, an' that automatically means he's forgotten you . . . thought you knew him better than that."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Dean slammed his mug down on the table, liquid splashing over the sides to add to the stains that already marked the old cream-colored table cloth. "Know Sammy better than anyone."

"Nothin'." Bobby pushed the brim of his hat down to shade his eyes from Dean, and lowered his head. "Just forget I even mentioned it." He slid out of his chair, stood to pour himself another cup of coffee, and when he sat back down, Dean noticed that Bobby was gripping so tightly to the handle that he feared it might break under the pressure.

"You're not tellin' me something." Dean said, and when he saw Bobby's shoulders slumped, he knew he was right in his assumption.

Bobby glanced up, eyed him for a moment and then heaved a weary sigh. "When you saw Sam in the hospital with Jax, it was after their first hunt together. Sam an' I had been trainin' Jax here for a couple of weeks. An' I knew Jax wasn't nearly ready, but Sam was really pushin' for a hunt. Think he was tryin' to — well, anyway, from the way Sam tells it, when they dug up the grave there was no body inside the coffin. But, here's where the story gets more than just a little strange. Sam said there was this demon there . . . a real freakin' powerful demon, yet it didn't even try to attack Sam, just went after Jax. Damn near killed the boy, but Sam walked away without a scratch on him."

"So you're thinkin' Sam did it?" Dean had to admit, even if only to himself, that it seemed highly unlikely that a demon would target Jax and leave Sam totally unharmed in anyway.

"From the way Sam described it, the whole damn cemetery was on fire, gravestones all broken and laying in pieces." Bobby slowly shook his head, looking more than just a little uncomfortable at the thought of telling Dean the rest of his story. "Went there shortly after to take a look around, an' there was no sign of a fire anywhere or any broken headstones. The only thing I did see was an open grave with a body inside."

"That doesn't mean he did anything wrong, Bobby," Dean tried to argue, but found it very hard to defend his brother when he already suspected that Sam had murdered Bela. Rowan had said Dean needed to have faith in Sam, and from that, Dean surmised that the vampire knew a lot more about Bela's death than he was leading on. And if Sam hadn't killed her, maybe they had been wrong about the other deaths as well. "What if he didn't kill all those people? What if it was just something Ruby wanted us to believe?" he reasoned, clinging to the hope that his brother hadn't really murdered innocent people. "When we found Sam, he was half-crazed, an' didn't seem in any condition to hurt anyone."

"Dean, I know ya wanna believe he didn't kill all those people." Bobby swallowed hard, and Dean knew it was killing the older hunter, who had been more like a father to them, to say what he said next. "But when we found him, he was covered in blood, an' he had the colt."

"Sam said he couldn't even remember taking off on his own, an' nothin' we found afterward pointed to him as the murderer." Dean thought back to all the research he and Bobby had done into the murders, and only now upon reflection, something stuck out as being highly suspicious to him. "All those murders . . . all of them, the blood was drained from the victims, almost ritualistically. Or maybe that's just what they wanted us to think." Dean thought of Killeon, and how cocky he had been, and how he seemed to know a helluva lot about him and Sam. "Damn it, that's what Rowan meant." He slammed his fist down hard on the table, rattling the glasses. "We never even thought of vampires. Only tried to prove that Ruby or some other demon had killed them all."

As Dean mulled over everything he'd learned about the murders, and added it to the suspicions that were now forming in his mind, he knew in his heart that Killeon and his clan of blood-sucking vampires were somehow involved in all the deaths. Now he just needed to prove that Sam was innocent like he'd claimed to be all along. And there was only one person he could get those answers from, but unfortunately, Rowan wasn't in any condition at the moment to provide the information he so desperately needed.

"Could've been vamps," Bobby reluctantly agreed, but the sad frown creasing his brow clearly told Dean that his friend believed otherwise, "or you could just be chasin' shadows here, Dean."

"You don't understand, Bobby," Dean began, wanting Bobby to understand that he was basing his theory on what he'd learned from listening to the exchange between Killeon, Rowan and himself, "we were on our way to Vegas, an' we ran into some vamps. There was this one named Killeon, and he knew something about Sam, I'd stake my life on it. Think he wanted me to know it, too." Dean glanced toward the backdoor, and grimaced as he thought of the Killeon attacking Rowan while his back was turned.

"Vegas?" Bobby latched onto that one word, and let out a slew of curse words. "Damn it, I got a tip about a nest of vampires in Vegas, and told Sam about it. Told him I didn't think Jax was ready to hunt vamps yet, but Sam said he could handle it."

Dean felt the blood drain from his face as a shiver of fear ran down the length of his spine. Killeon had feasted on Rowan's blood. And if the attack had left Rowan weak and poisoned, Dean was forced to wonder what effect Rowan's blood had on Killeon. "Call him now . . . tell him you were wrong about the tip. Tell him anything, but just get him the hell away from there."

He stood so abruptly his chair fell backward and hit the floor with a thud. Without another word to Bobby he rushed back outside to where Rowan was, needing to know what would happen to Killeon having drank his blood. Dropping down on the ground beside his friend, Dean gently nudged Rowan on the shoulder several times before the vampire slowly stirred to consciousness.

Rowan's eyelids drifted open and closed, and Dean was forced to suck in a breath when he noticed that there were only minute traces of green left in his now pale gray eyes, and the whites surrounding his irises were now blood red. If that and the low growl that issued past Rowan's dried and cracked lips were any indication, his friend was quickly losing the battle going on inside of him.

"Rowan, need to know something," Dean began, and had to look away as blood spilled from the vampire's lips as he gasped for breath.

"C-can hear y-your blood r-rushin' through yer v-veins." Rowan choked on a laugh as tears slipped down the sides of his face. "H-heart's b-beatin' real fast."

Dean gripped hold of Rowan's hand, praying that it would pull him back from the edge, and felt the vampire shudder in response. "Listen, Rowan, I have to know what effect your blood will have on Killeon."

"Stronger," Rowan said in a breathless whisper, "a h-helluva lot stronger." He gasped, arching forward and began trembling all the harder. "N-not immortal . . . b-but a lot h-harder to kill."

"Anything else," Dean prodded, his heart in his throat, fearing Sam wouldn't listen to Bobby and steer clear of the nest of vampires. What was more, he had a feeling Killeon would be expecting Sam, and more than likely had been planning a trap for him all along.

"Hungry, D-Dean . . . so damn hungry . . . c-can't th-think straight." Rowan's grip tightened around Dean's hand as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Pl-please . . . ."

One look at Rowan and Dean knew he wouldn't get anymore of the answers he needed, unless he did something to help the vampire. Dean grappled with any internal objections he might have had for all of five seconds before he yanked out the knife he'd kept concealed in his boot. As he sliced through the flesh on his forearm, Dean heard all his father's warnings and teachings in his mind. Dean knew that in his father's eyes, he had done the unthinkable, he'd come to care for the enemy.

Somewhere along the way, the lines between black and white, good and bad, had become mottled, blurring beyond recognition, and Dean just couldn't see Rowan as evil even if he was a vampire. And although he'd never admit aloud, Dean couldn't stand to see his friend in so much pain. Pain that was the direct cause of Rowan, once again, trying to protect him and Joshua. If Rowan hadn't been so single-minded in his desire for Dean to get as far away from Killeon as he possibly could, the vampire would have sensed the impending threat the other vampire represented.

"Wh-what the hell are ya doin', Dean?" Rowan muttered as Dean's blood began to flow freely from his arm. "I-I c-can't," he licked his dried lips, fangs descending from buried deep beneath his gums, "pl-please . . . don't . . . ."

"Shades of gray," Dean grinned as he held his arm over Rowan's lips, and watched as Rowan licked greedily at the blood spilling into his mouth. "Guess I finally figured out what that really meant."

After several long minutes of drinking in Dean's lifeblood, Rowan turned his head to the side, and Dean caught the look of self-loathing that crossed the vampire's features before he could conceal it behind the wall of pain so prevalent on his face.

"D-damn it, Dean . . . feel like s-some sort of wild animal," he muttered in disgust. "Tr-tried to be b-better than this."

"Not your fault," Dean replied with a single shake of his head.

"Jus' wanted ya t-to know . . . jus' incase . . . . " A sob caught in Rowan's throat, and swallowing hard, he pushed onward as if he feared he wouldn't get another chance to say what was on his mind before he changed into whatever he was becoming. "After wh-what I did . . . n-never k-killed another h-human being . . . w-wanted you to know that . . . jus' w-wanted to be f-forgiven . . . n-now that'll n-never happen."

"Think I already figured that one out myself," Dean uttered, and although it felt strangely odd, his heart broke for the vampire who had tried so damn hard to be forgiven for his sins. "An' we will fix this, cause I'm not plannin' on giving up."

"D-Dean . . . visions . . . v-visions . . . along with other things." Rowan turned back to look at Dean. "C-can see . . . in m-my mind . . . h-he's goin' after Sa-Sam."


	4. Chapter 4

thanks so much for reading and reviewing!! If you are enjoying the series please let me know... I really live for reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Four_

Sam and Jax had just brought in all their gear and had just begun to settle into their motel room when Sam's phone started ringing. He quickly glanced at the name on the small screen, saw that it was Bobby, and let it go straight to voicemail. The last thing he wanted or needed at the moment was another lecture from the older hunter. It had been a painfully long ride to Las Vegas, and the only thing on his mind right now was the thought of a really hot shower and then sleep.

For the first thirty miles or so, he and Jax had gotten along amicably well, but the moment Sam had brought up the subject of the little boy they had met at the motel, everything went all to hell. As Sam had driven along, he had mulled over everything Joshua had said, and couldn't help but wonder if the little boy had been trying to tell him something important. Joshua had said the chipmunk was looking for him and then said only five more months. But only five more months till what?

Yet, the thing that had him doing a u-turn and heading straight back to the motel was when he realized that Joshua had called him Sammy. Sure, Jax had mentioned his name while there, but he had said Sam not Sammy. However when they got to back to the motel, the Chevelle was already gone. Not dissuaded, Sam headed to the office to talk to the receptionist, feeling certain if he just showed a picture of Dean, they would say that he'd been there. With Jax grumbling under his breath, Sam showed the picture of Dean to the motel manager only to have the man say that a gentleman with long black hair had returned the key and that he'd never seen Dean.

After that, he and Jax had fought relentlessly the whole way to Las Vegas. Now Sam was sorely regretting his decision to bring the younger man along instead of leaving him at Bobby's like he'd first intended to do. Granted, most of the arguing had been one-sided, and Sam felt more than a little bad for a lot of the things he'd said, but Jax just had an undeniable knack for pushing all the wrong buttons, even if it was unintentional on his part.

"Wanna take the first shower, Sam-my," Jax taunted as he quickly slipped by Sam and headed straight for the bathroom. "So not gonna happen." He slammed the door behind him, and Sam could hear laughter coming from inside the bathroom as Jax turned on the shower.

Heaving a bone-weary groan, Sam slumped down on the bed, and placed Dean's knife under his pillow. He pulled back his sleeve and glanced down at the long jagged scar on his wrist, and felt the sting of tears in his eyes. It had been a little over a month now since Dean had left, and things were only getting harder as each day passed by. And if his and Jax's first hunt together was a sign of things to come, Sam had a feeling that things would only get worse as time went on.

Amidst his own ongoing struggles, Jax had set aside his own pain more times than not to be there for Sam, and Sam hadn't even come close to being the friend that the younger man deserved. In truth, he hadn't even tried. Didn't want to try. And deep down, he knew the reason why. Dean. His Mom and Dad. Jess. Madison. Everyone he had ever even thought to care about died, and he couldn't bring himself to care for another person only to watch their life be ripped from them because of him. When Jax had almost died after their very first hunt together, that point had been driven home full-force, and Sam would be damned if Jax died because of him. If that meant making the younger hunter hate him, then Sam was more than prepared to pay that price. However, he was quickly learning that the more he tried to push Jax away, the harder Jax fought for them to remain together.

"Think I left ya a smidgen of hot water," Jax called out as he exited the bathroom. With a towel draped over his head, Jax briskly shook it with his fingers, drying his shaggy dirty-blond hair. "Naww . . . I'm lyin'. It's stone cold freezin' water now." He cracked a grin that quickly faded when Sam turned and scowled at him. Clenching and unclenching the fist of his right hand, Jax winced, and Sam's scowl deepened, realizing that Jax was pushing himself too hard to get back in hunting shape.

"How's your arm?" Sam muttered, and turned away before Jax could see how much the thought of the younger hunter being hurt effected him.

"Well, I won't be doin' any handstands for a while, but seein' as I never did any before, guess I'm good." He chuckled, but when Sam didn't join in, his laughter died away. "So I guess any hope I ever had of bein' an Olympic gymnast is shot all ta hell now." Jax was quiet for a moment, apparently waiting for Sam to make some sort of comment, but Sam remained stone silent, not wanting to give Jax any hope that they would ever eventually become friends. "Huh, nothin' . . . well, I guess makin' a joke about me wantin' to be a figure skater an' wearin' tight fittin' leotards isn't probably gonna go over well either."

"You should get some rest."

"Ya know what, you really suck." Jax threw his towel aside, and stormed to where Sam was sitting. "Don't know what the hell yer problem is, but I'm sick ta death of yer freakin' brooding."

"Then get the hell out."

"Fine. I'm done." Jax grabbed his shoes, tugged them on and then shoved all his clothes in his duffel. "Could've told me you were gonna be such an ass before I left my car all the way back at Bobby's." Struggling to pull on his hoodie, he finally just threw it in his duffel, and stalked out the door without saying another word to Sam.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Jax didn't know where he was heading once he left the crappy little motel Sam had checked them into, but as long as it was far away from Sam he was happy. On a certain level Jax understood Sam's reasons for being so cruel toward him. But even Jax had limits of what he was willing to endure for the sake of friendship, and Sam had far surpassed that limit well over a hundred miles ago. Only problem was that reaching his limit now had left him without his Camaro and no money in his pockets either. Not to mention the fact that he'd never been to Las Vegas before and had no idea where he should go to find some sort of transportation back to Bobby's to pick up his car.

Although he'd never before thought twice about hot-wiring a car, the very last thing he needed was to be caught by the police with an outstanding warrant for his arrest attached to his name in their database. So, the only alternatives left open to him were going back to Sam, which wasn't going to happen, or to get some money together and take a bus.

As he wasn't above pick-pocketing when the need arose, he blended in with the flow of people walking down the street. Within a relatively short amount of time he had grabbed enough wallets to be set with money for at least a few days, and was grinning at the thought that he hadn't lost his touch.

"Saw you pick-pocket that guy back there," came a voice from behind Jax, and before he had a chance to run, the man grabbed hold of the back of his shirt. "Not that I mind . . . see, I really like it when a person just takes what they want regardless if it's someone else's." Jax jerked free of his grasp and swung to stare at the man who was wearing a long black leather trench coat. The man brushed aside his long raven-colored bangs only to have them fall loosely over his right eye again, and then he smiled. "Name's Killeon Gallagher." He held out his hand for Jax to shake it, but Jax stared at it for a moment and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Not lookin' to make any new friends."

"Everyone needs friends." Something about the way Killeon had said this, made Jax think of one of those movies where a girl came to a Hollywood looking to hit it big as a star and somehow ended up turning tricks on a street corner for some ugly-assed pimp.

"Really not lookin' ta be anyone's boy-toy either."

"Dang, an' here I thought I could make a bundle off of you." Killeon rolled his eyes and then chuckled. "Seriously, do I really look like a pimp to you?"

Jax eyed all the silver chains the man wore around his neck, and the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt under his leather jacket, and then nodded. "Well, if ya ain't, maybe ya should think ta put a shirt on before ya leave yer house in the morning."

Before either Jax or Killeon could say anything else to each other, four gorgeous girls wearing extremely short skirts, and barely there bikini tops, sauntered up to Killeon. A tall, leggy, blond wrapped her arms around Killeon's neck and kissed him as the other three set their sights on Jax.

"Who's you're friend, Killeon?" asked one of the girls, smiling coyly as she twirled her long ginger-colored hair around her finger.

"Yeah, Kill, you been holding out on us?" another girl with long raven tresses winked at Jax as she slowly licked her lips. "Haven't seen him around here before."

"Sorry, girls, afraid he says he's not lookin' to make any new friends," Killeon said as he finally broke free from the kiss, and hooked his arm around the girl's waist.

"So he's not comin' to your party, Killeon," a girl with short wavy chestnut hair pouted as she glanced at Jax, deep sea-green eyes staring intently into his.

As Jax had spent a good share of his life in and out of jail, the sight of the four beautiful women, showing more gleaming golden skin than Jax had seen in a long time, struck him momentarily speechless. His gaze was instantly drawn and held captivated by each of the girls' ample breasts, and his down stairs brain took over.

"I . . . ummm . . . like friends," Jax uttered as he accidentally gestured toward all of the girls' chests, and became even more flustered. "Never can have too many of them, I always say."

"Well, guess he likes friends," Killeon smirked as he tried unsuccessfully to brushed his bangs out of his eyes again, "but he made it absolutely clear to me that he doesn't want to be anyone's boy-toy."

"Oh, he's gay then," the short-haired blond uttered, looking completely devastated at the thought.

"Damn, why are all the good-looking ones always gay?" The raven-haired girl's saucy smile turned to a pout.

"Not gay." Jax replied so abruptly, his voice came out sounding high-pitched and squeaky. Now completely red-faced and well beyond embarrassed, he cleared his throat and tried again, "So definitely not gay. Killeon must've misunderstood what I was tryin' ta say."

"So you wanna come to my party?" Killeon asked.

As two of the girls wrapped their arms around Jax's waist, he smiled and gave a quick nod. "Sure, why the hell not." And with one last thought of Sam sitting alone back at the motel, he added, "Not like I have anywhere else better ta be at the moment."

"Huh, somehow I figured you would," Killeon said as he gestured toward a dark blue Hummer parked across the road. Heading over to it, he motioned for Jax to follow as he called back over his shoulder, "An' believe me when I say, it's one party you'll never forget for as long as you live."


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for reading!! hope everyone is still enjoying the story!! Let me know what you think as I really live for reviews...Bambers;)_

_Chapter Five_

Sam sat alone in his motel room, staring at the door for the longest time after Jax had left. Several times he had thought to get up and go after the younger man, but couldn't seem to bring himself to move from his spot. If he went after Jax it would be like admitting that he needed the younger hunter in his life to fill the vastly growing abyss that Dean had left behind when he'd died. But no matter how hard Jax may have tried, he wasn't Dean. Not even close to being in the same league as Dean.

_Even now, everyone around me dies . . . ._

_Well, I'm not dying . . . ._

Dean had promised. He'd said he wasn't going to die. He'd made that point extremely clear.

He'd lied.

As Sam sat memorizing every line, swirl and splinter in the wooden door, he thought back to the time he and his brother had investigated the disappearance of Dexter Hasselback at the Brower County Mystery Spot. Brokenhearted, he'd watched Dean die over and over again in every possible way imaginable, but when the time came that his brother had died for real, Dean had spared him from having to watch it happen again. And it was odd, because now Sam felt cheated. His pitiful goodbye to his brother after Dean had sedated and tied him to a chair was a slap in the face to the man his brother was. Dean deserved better than that. He deserved to live. And no matter if he had made a deal, his older brother didn't deserve to go to Hell.

His mind then wandered back to the day he'd gone to the church after Dean had died. The priest, Raphael, had told him that maybe God was testing them and had bigger plans for both he and Dean, and only if he followed it through to the end, would he know what they were. He'd also said that maybe God had witnessed their suffering, and that Sam was counted amongst the blessed.

_Only five more months, Sammy. _Joshua's soft voice echoed in his mind, mingling with Raphael's words. It couldn't just be a coincidence that Raphael had said that Sam needed to follow it through to the end, and Joshua had provided the time-line.

Sam stood abruptly, grabbed his hoodie and car keys, and headed out the door. If what he was thinking was corrected, there was only one place he would find the answers he needed. Once on the road, he drove past all the makeshift novelty churches set up for the 'what happens in Vegas will soon be annulled in another state weddings', and headed toward a real church.

Finally he spotted an old church that looked strikingly similar to the one he'd met Raphael in the last time. He pulled into the parking lot, and parked his car. As he stepped out of the Impala, he glanced up at the old stone cathedral, and prayed for all he was worth that he would find Raphael inside. Above the arched doorway, he read, Our Lady of Mercy, and somehow it gave him hope that he would find answers inside the old building.

Once inside, he moved swiftly past the rows and rows of pews as he made his way up to the altar. He quietly took a seat in the front row, lowered his head and waited, hoping that he wasn't wrong in coming there. For the longest time he sat there, praying silently as he watched the candles flicker in front of the altar, but unlike the first time, no one came to ease his suffering.

"Said he wasn't going die on me . . . made me a promise," Sam uttered as he glanced up at the statue of Jesus on the cross. Swallowing hard against the painful lump in his throat, he scrubbed his hand across his face, then rubbed at the tears that had gathered at the corner of his eyes. "I believed him . . . with all my heart, I believed him."

"Sometimes we believe only what we want to believe," came a familiar voice from behind Sam and he turned to find Jax casually leaning against the doorframe of the entryway. "Hell, it's easier than actually calling the people we love liars. So why wouldn't you believe Dean was telling the truth. He's your brother, after all. " Jax eyed the cross of Jesus for a moment and then lowered his head. "But everyone lies, Sam. It's only human nature."

"What the hell are you doin' here, Jax?" Sam mumbled as he slowly got to his feet and headed toward the younger hunter. "Thought you said you were leaving?"

"Was gonna go," Jax admitted with a chuckle, the deep rich sound of it, echoing throughout the sanctuary, "but then realized that I needed your help to find my brother. Can't find Nick on my own." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Jax nudged his head toward the entrance. "Saw the Impala parked outside, an' gotta admit I was more than just a bit surprised to find it there. You here finding religion, Sam? Think if you pray hard enough, Dean will come back to you?"

"How'd you get here?" Sam asked, ignoring Jax's taunt as he pushed past the younger man and strode toward the door. "Steal a car?"

"Ha, not with my record," Jax picked up his pace to follow Sam, "tryin' to be a damn good little hunter just like you taught me . . . stickin' under the radar . . . blendin' in so no one will suspect what I really am. Hell, I even used that Barney Finklestien credit card you gave me to buy myself some lunch." Jax licked his lips as if recalling how delicious the meal was, and then his grin widened. "Course it was only HoHo's and a Coke," he shrugged, "but what can I say . . . I just love devil's food."

When they reached the car, Jax hesitated with his hand on the passenger's side door, and glanced over the roof at Sam. "Listen, I was thinkin' . . . maybe we should wait awhile before going after this nest of vamps." Jax paused to draw in a breath, and lowered his head as if in embarrassment, and when he glanced up again, Sam detected a look of fear etched into his bluish-green eyes. "Don't think I'm ready yet . . . I mean, after what happened in the cemetery . . . I'm just still a little sore . . .ya know?"

Whether it was intentional or not, Jax cast an accusatory look in Sam's direction which left no doubt in Sam's mind that Jax blamed him for what had happened. It was painfully obvious the younger man doubted that Sam could protect him, and Sam was beginning to have the same fears himself.

"Look," Sam began, then faltered as he tried to think of what Dean would do to protect him from danger. "I can do this alone . . . it's not that big of a deal." He shrugged, trying to pretend it didn't bother him that Jax no longer trusted him. "Killed vamps before, and — "

"No," Jax was quick to cut in, "I wanna do this . . . just need a few days to regain my strength." Sam was about to argue, not sure if Jax would ever truly be a hunter, but the younger man cut him off again. "Please, Sam, I can do this . . . just need a couple days. It's not like these vamps are going anywhere. Don't want you to do this alone. Dean wouldn't want you to do this alone."

Whatever argument Sam might have made, died on his lips when he heard Jax mention his brother's name. Jax was right. Dean wouldn't want him to have to hunt alone. Dean would want someone to have his little brother's back if things got out of hand, and with a nest of vampires that was very likely to happen.

"Two days . . . two days, an' if you're not ready by then, I'm goin' it alone. Got me?"

"Two days is plenty of time." Jax grinned as he slid into the passenger's seat. "You know what they say, a lot can happen in two day's time. An' I gotta say, I'll probably be like a whole new man by then."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Jax blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the dimly lit, sparsely furnished room. Everything seemed to spin off kilter, and then just as abruptly shifted back. Stomach churning, he swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Very slowly, as not to make his head pound anymore furiously than it already was, Jax tried to sit up in bed, but found he couldn't move his arms or legs more than just a few inches in any direction. Turning his head from side to side, Jax noticed handcuffs around his wrists and anchored to the sturdy wooden posts of the bedframe.

"Sonuvabitch," he cursed under his breath as he spied more restraints wrapped firmly around his ankles, barring him from any means of escape. "Sam?" he yelled out in confusion, and when no one answered, he hollered even louder, "Sam! This is so not funny . . . where the hell are ya?"

Within a few seconds of Jax calling out to Sam, the bedroom door swung wide open. Killeon stood at the threshold for the briefest of moments then enter the room and swaggered to where Jax was bound to the bed.

"Didn't your parents ever warn you about getting into cars with strangers?" Killeon taunted as he sat beside Jax and checked to make sure the restraints were secure. "Never can tell what kind of crazy person could be behind the wheel." Killeon lightly trailed his fingertips up Jax's arm, letting them come to rest on the inner fleshy part of Jax's forearm. "An' hell, ya never know, the thing that picks you up might not even be human at all, what with vampires roaming Sin City an' all."

Swallowing back his growing fears of what Killeon and the others might have done to him in the hours he couldn't recall, Jax mustered all his courage and spat in the vampire's face. A mirthless laugh escaped Killeon as he brushed his hand across his face, wiping away the spittle from his cheek and mouth.

"Think that was highly uncalled for," Killeon sneered as he backhanded Jax across face. "As I remember it, you came with me very willingly."

"What the hell did ya do ta me? I swear ta God, if ya did anything ta me . . . if ya turned me into a blood-suckin' vampire, I'll freakin' rip yer goddamn head off with my bare hands," Jax growled, a nagging twinge of panic working its way up his spine at the thought of becoming one of the things that he was supposed to be hunting with Sam. Yanking hard against his restraints, Jax's tried desperately to free himself. His fingers curled inward, hands tightening into fists as he tugged even harder against the handcuffs.

"Haven't done anything to you . . . yet." Killeon glanced over his shoulder at the door he'd just entered, and when he looked back at Jax, a subtle puzzled frown creased his brow. "Wanted you to be awake. Wanted to see your face as you watched my blood mingle with your own."

Killeon laughed as he rolled up the sleeve of his black silk shirt. Extracting a long curved blade from a leather sheath strapped around his muscular thigh, Killeon held it up in the air so that the metal caught and reflected the light, and then lowered it to his wrist. For the briefest of moments, Jax was held dumbstruck by the sight of the vampire cutting through his own veins, blood squirting and dripping down his arm to stain the pristine sheets a dark crimson. Sheer unadulterated panic then overrode any other thought or emotion on Jax's mind, and he began to thrash and buck violently. Killeon pressed a firm hand down against Jax's chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"Fight me all you wish, but by nightfall, you will be one of us, Joshua."

Jax instantly stilled upon hearing the name Killeon had called him. His mind reeled back to a long ago time when he was no more than six-years-old, and his mother's dire warnings never to let anyone know his real name. Vividly, he recalled a tall, dark-haired man with bright green eyes burst into their home in the middle of the night just in time to rescue them from several attackers.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

_"Get back," the dark-haired man ordered to Jax, Nick, and their mother as he faced off against the assailants who had broken into their home. "Get them the hell out of here," he further commanded to Jax's mother as he put himself between the five men and the Callio's. _

_"Get out of the freakin' way, Rowan," one of the inky-eyed men hissed, edging closer to the man trying to save Jax's family. "Unless you really want him to come after you again."_

_"You're not touching him." Rowan briefly glanced back over his shoulder at Jax_, _and then returned his full attention to the men. "He can kill me a million times, but it won't change the fact that I'll keep coming back to protect them from you." _

_"He can't save you, Rowan," the man taunted as he gestured toward Jax, "he'll be dead before he even knows what he truly is."_

_"I don't think so." In a blink of an eye, Rowan pulled a gun from his waistband, and aimed it directly the man taunting him. Seeing the gun, the five men slowly began to edge backward toward the door, abject fear clearly registering in their eyes. Rowan glanced down at his weapon, then looked back up at the men and smiled. "See you've heard of the Colt," was the only warning he gave before he quickly fired, the blasts reverberating throughout the house. In an explosion of fiery light, four of the five men, disintegrated into ash and dust. Rowan aimed the Colt on the last man's heart, finger resting on the trigger. "Tell him that he can't have Joshua . . . tell him that I'll always be around to stop him."_

_"You're makin' a huge freakin' mistake, Rowan," the assailant jeered, laughing as he trained his sights on Jax, "Michael won't protect you, an' you only have six bullets left. You can't stop all of us. We will eventually win one way or the another."_

_"Maybe," Rowan reluctantly nodded, but remained stalwart in his stance, "but not tonight . . . an' not while I am his Guardian." _

_"Ah, that's right, you're big second chance to make things right." The man chuckled, his face contorting to that of a creature the likes of which Jax had never seen before. "You'll fail . . . just like the first time. All we have to do is figure out how many pieces of silver it will take this time around."_

_Rowan nudged his head toward the door, and growled, "Get out of here before I blow your ass back to Hell where it belongs."_

_For a moment, it looked as if the man might argue, but then he swung around and strode through the door, stopping briefly to look at another raven-haired man who was now leaning against the doorframe. As soon as the assailant was gone, the raven-haired man entered the house and stalked to where Rowan was standing. He glanced at the Callio's for a few seconds before focusing his attention solely on Rowan._

_"Wasn't very smart leaving him alive, Rowan," he said in clear warning as his gaze strayed to the open door. "Leave an enemy alive an' most assuredly he'll come back even stronger and more determined the next time around."_

_"Never asked for your opinion on the matter, Killeon." Rowan pivoted on his heel to face the Callio's, calling back over his shoulder, "An' I didn't see you offering up any help, leavin' me to waste four bullets on those pathetically weak demons."_

_"Figured it wasn't my fight . . . an' truthfully, I really don't care if Joshua lives or dies. In fact, I'm thinkin' it would be better for all our kind if you had let him die."_

_Rowan swung back to glare at Killeon, fangs descending from buried deep within his gums. Sensing the inherent danger the older vampire represented, Killeon's fangs pierced through his gums, blood seeping down his chin as he faced off against Rowan. _

_"I'll kill you if you even think to betray me, Killeon. I made you, an' I can destroy you just as easily."_

_"True," Killeon conceded with a curt nod, "but that won't always be the case. The longer I am around you, the more I learn . . . an' the more I learn, the deadlier I become. You can't control me forever . . . it's only a matter of time before the student surpasses the teacher. An' if you push me too far, I will take my revenge out on him." He gestured toward Jax as a smirk slid across his features. "An' I can guarantee you that day will come."_

_Rowan took a step forward, coming face to face with the shorter man, and forcefully pushed him backward. "Get the hell out of here, an' if I ever see your face again, you will die."_

_Killeon stood staring at Rowan, his smirk grin never faltering as he hissed, "The next time I see Joshua, you won't be able to stop me . . . an' you know what? I'll make him into the thing you hate most . . . I'll make him just like you . . . a filthy, blood-sucking vamp. No longer the golden child, destine to save this God forsaken world, an' it'll be all your fault for making me what I am." With that said, Killeon strode out the door._

_Silence filtered into the room, the Callio's too frightened to speak or move a muscle, and Rowan too busy making sure that the house was well-protected against another attack to utter a single word. Jax watched in awe as the man moved lithely around the house, placing salt trails across the doorways and all the windowsills. He then headed to the corner of the house, and began to draw intricate patterns on the floor. When finished, he proceeded onward to every other corner of the Callio's home and did the same thing over and over again. _

_After Rowan had completed his drawings, he stalked over to where Jax stood, and knelt beside him. From the pocket of his black leather trench coat, he yanked out an amulet, and carefully placed it around Jax's neck."Don't ever take this off. It will protect you." He stood and looked Jax's mother in the eye. "As long as they can find him, they will always come after him."_

_"Wh-who are they?" Jax's mother asked, the tremor in her voice belying the brave front she was striving so hard to achieve._

_Instead of answering her question, Rowan fished around in his pocket and retrieved a large bundle of money and handed it to her. "Take this money and move far away from here. Understand?" Rowan eyed both Jax and Nick for a moment before he took hold of Jax's hand, drew a strange intricate design on it, and then softly whispered something in a language Jax had never heard spoken before. "From this moment onward, your name is Jax, an' as this sigil washes away all memory of you will fade from the minds of those who chose to do you harm." Rowan took a backward step, and smiled at Jax as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I have to go, Jax, but know that I will always be around to look out for you." He turned on his heel and stalked toward the door. At the entrance, he turned back briefly to stare at Jax, the smile sliding from his face as a sad frown replaced it. "Don't ever let anyone know who you truly are." He hesitated for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, and then slowly released it as if trying to build his own courage. "An' know that I would protect you with my life, but there are things out there that even I can't stop from getting to you." Without another word, he strode the door, and Jax never saw him again._

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Name's Jax . . . not Joshua." Jax's gaze strayed to his right palm, and could almost visualize the sigil there once more.

Killeon pursed his lips and gave a subtle nod as if accepting Jax's response, but then laughed even harder. "Afraid not. Your full name is Joshua Elijah Callio. Born three weeks early on Easter morning . . . some would say that seemed very fitting . . . Rowan certainly thought it was."

"How — how could ya know that?" A tremor of real fear washed over Jax as he stared incredulously at the vampire. "My mother had my name legally changed when I was six. An' I never told anyone . . . so how could ya possibly know that?"

"See, Rowan was very clever, but there was one thing he failed to take into consideration when he drew that sigil on your hand to hide you from your enemies." Killeon went on to say, completely ignoring Jax's question. "Something he probably really should have thought of, too."

"What was that?" Jax's hand closed tightly around the imaginary mark now so clearly etched in his mind.

"He failed to realize that to a little six-year-old boy, even the most despicable and loathsome creature imaginable could become a hero." Peering intently into Jax's eyes, Killeon sliced a path down the length of the young hunter's forearm with the curved blade, blood oozing from the wound. "He never thought that instead of letting the mark wash away to complete the incantation, the little boy would trace over it again and again, wanting nothing more than to remember the man who had saved his family's lives. He walked away and just allowed the most vile of creatures to seep up through the floorboards and cracks in the walls. You suffered because he walked away. Your hero . . . your savior . . . and he allowed Lucifer to inhabit your . . . ." Killeon's voice trailed off as a smirk settled on his face once more.

"My what?" Jax asked, hanging onto every single word, remembering how he'd pretended to be Rowan when he was younger. In games that he had played with Nick, he had always been Rowan, saving Nick from danger, killing the bad guys and saving the day. "Who did Lucifer possess?"

Killeon chuckled as he sliced deeper into Jax's arm, but so intent on an answer, Jax scarcely noticed. "Who made your life so miserable? Who hurt everyone you cared about . . . destroyed your happy little family?"

Jax immediately thought of his father, and shook his head, not wanting to believe that his father could have been possessed all those times he'd beat their mother, Nick and himself. "No . . . you're lyin' . . . it couldn't have happened like that . . . my Dad was always a cruel selfish bastard."

"No, not always, but he was damn good at it once Lucifer possessed him."

"My — my Mom . . . she killed herself because . . . ." Jax's voice trailed off as he thought of how his father had tortured and beaten her relentlessly, and then remembered how Nick had taken the brunt of their father's wrath after their mother had committed suicide. "An' Nick . . . he hurt him so damn bad . . . hurt me. No . . . ." he shook his head, tears welling in the corner of his eyes and slipping down his cheeks, "it had ta be him . . . I hated him so damn much, it had ta be him."

"Guess you hated the wrong man all this time. It's Rowan's fault your Mother and Father are dead. It's his fault that Nick isn't around . . . his fault that your brother is Lucifer's newest little meat puppet." Killeon pressed his bloodied arm firmly against Jax's opened wound, their blood mingling together. "The question now is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Gonna find him . . . gonna find him an' make him pay for what he did."

"Good," Killeon said as he lifted Jax's arm to his lips, and hungrily gorged himself on Jax's blood. Pausing for a moment, he licked his pale lips and glanced up at Jax. "Cause I'd say that just about now, you're the only one who can hurt him."


	6. Chapter 6

so, another chappy...hope everyone is still enjoying this story as much as i am enjoying writing it!! thanks for reading and all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Six_

Dean pushed back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, tired of looking through all Bobby's books, hopelessly searching for something to help Rowan. Books were scattered across the kitchen table, piled in stacks on the chairs, and more on the floor beside him, but in all his reading, he hadn't found one thing that might cure his friend.

Bobby and Joshua were both in the livingroom, the older hunter deep into research while Joshua played quietly with Rumsfeld on the floor. Every now and again, Bobby would stop what he was doing to place a call to Sam, but as of yet, the youngest Winchester had failed to answer his phone, and Dean was really beginning to worry.

Although Bobby had filled him in on most of what had happened while he had been away, Dean was certain there were things the older man was purposely leaving out. Dean had known Bobby for as far back as his memory could stretch, and although his friend had always kept things pretty close to the vest, Dean could always tell when the hunter was keeping something from him by the way the corner of his right eye twitched ever-so-slightly. Always astute, Dean had immediately noticed how the corner of Bobby's eye began to twitch when he'd recounted the last time he'd seen Sam and Jax before they'd headed off to Las Vegas, and Dean knew there was more to the story than Bobby had shared. Dean had tried to broach the subject several times, but Bobby shrugged it off, pretending as if he didn't know what Dean was talking about. However, the more his friend denied it, the more curious and fearful Dean became.

Finally realizing he wasn't going to get any research done while his mind was solely on Sam, Dean stood and stretched his aching muscles. Cocking his head from side to side, he then rubbed his neck to work out the stiffness all the studying had caused.

"Found anything yet?" he asked as he lumbered into the livingroom.

Bobby glanced up from the book he was reading, and shook his head. "Jus' ways to kill a vamp, nothin' in any of these damn books about savin' one."

"There's got to be something." Dean pushed several books aside, and took a seat beside Bobby on the couch. "He's changin' fast, Bobby, we haven't got a lot of time left."

"Uncle Rowan sick, Chipmunk?" Joshua asked, bright blue eyes widening with worry. He bound to his feet, and plopped down on Dean's lap, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. "Wanna see him . . . please, Chipmunk?"

"Chipmunk?" Bobby quirked a brow, a bemused expression slipping across his features.

"Don't ask." Dean shot a look of clear warning to his friend, but knew he was never going to hear the end of this.

"'Kay, Chipmunk, I'll jus' pretend like I never heard it." Bobby chuckled as he tossed the book he was reading onto the coffee table.

"So not funny, Bobby."

"Wanna see, Uncle Rowan," Joshua whined, drawing Dean's attention back to the little boy perched on his lap.

"Can't see him right now, Jay." Dean pried Joshua's hands away from around his neck, and set him down on the couch. "He's real sick an' I don't want you to get sick again, so you have to stay away from him. Understood?"

"But I — "

Joshua started to protested, but Dean gave a firm shake of his head as he held up his hand to stop the little boy from arguing further. "Said no, Jay. Rowan doesn't want to get you sick. So you will stay away from him."

"Maybe you should go check on him, Dean." Bobby nudged his head toward the back door, a worried frown creasing his brow. "Not sure how long that Hawthorn will . . . ." his voice trailed off as he glanced at Joshua, and then looked back to Dean, and let out a deep groan. "Jus' check an' see if the medicine is still working. I'll look after Jay."

"Alright, make sure he stays here with you." Dean eyed Joshua for a moment, noticing how the little boy bit pensively at his lower lip as he keenly listened to what they were saying. And if Dean wasn't mistaken, he saw a look of understanding cross the boy's features as if he knew exactly what was wrong with Rowan. "Jay, I'm gonna go take care of Rowan, you stay an' play with Rumsfeld, an' don't bug Bobby while he's doin' research, 'kay?"

"Uh huh." Joshua slipped off the couch and patted his knees for Rumsfeld to come and play with him, and the old dog immediately obeyed. "Still wanna see him," Joshua grumbled under his breath.

"Not gonna happen," Dean shot back as he got to his feet and headed for the back door.

Once outside, Dean stood for a few moments listening to the low growls of pain coming from Rowan, and fleetingly wondered if it was already too late to save him. So far the Hawthorn stakes seemed to be holding the vampire, but Rowan had warned that they wouldn't restrain him for long once he'd turned, so he was fairly certain that they still had time left to find a cure.

"You can come closer, Dean." Rowan muttered without glancing in Dean's direction, and Dean couldn't help but notice how much stronger his friend's voice was now. He was no longer stuttering or gasping for breath as he tried to speak, and that had Dean cursing under his breath. If he was growing in strength, he would soon be able to break free, and when that happened there would be nothing they could do to stop him. "Not gonna bite ya . . . well, not yet anyway," Rowan chuckled weakly.

Dean took the stairs two at a time, and trudged to where his friend was staked to the ground. At first he was hesitant, but after several very long moments he finally dropped down beside the vampire.

"How much longer, you think?" Dean asked, and held his breath as he waited for an answer.

"Doin' my damnedest to hang on." Rowan shifted slightly, the stake through his heart making any real movement nearly impossible. "But you should really think about taking Josh an' gettin' the hell out of here very soon."

"Told ya before I can't do that."

"Damn it, Dean," Rowan hissed through clenched teeth as he turned his head to glare at Dean. "Why the hell can't you just listen to me for once? Just once, would it really kill you just to walk away?"

"Just can't," Dean said as he thought back to the day he'd admitted to Sam that he didn't want to die and go to Hell. In vivid detail, he recalled confronting himself in his dream after taking the African Dream Root to go after Jeremy. He'd hated what he saw in that dream. Hated what he was. His own worst nightmare had been himself. He hadn't fought to save himself because in truth, he hadn't felt he deserved to be saved. He had been a hunter, a soldier in a war not of his own making, and nothing more. He was, in a sense, what his father had made him to be. The perfect hunter. His own thoughts, feelings and dreams had never mattered. The only thing he knew was protecting Sam and saving lives.

He wanted more. Needed more.

And the truth was, Rowan and him were very much alike. Rowan was giving up because he didn't believe he deserved to be saved, but Dean would be damned if he would give up on his friend. If for no other reason than the fact that Rowan had befriended him when Dean had needed it the most, it made the vampire worthy of being saved. And if he deserved to be saved, there had to be a way to accomplish it. It was as simple as that.

"Have you always been this damn pig-headed, Dean?" Rowan grumbled, breaking in on Dean's troubled thoughts. "Or do I just bring out the worst in you?"

"Can't go cause . . . well, damn it, I can't go cause I know how it is to feel like nothin' . . . to want so damn much to be saved, an' know that every freakin' card in the deck is stacked against you."

Rowan let out a low cry of pain, wincing as he struggled against the restraints holding him firmly to the ground. He writhed for several more minutes, blood spilling from his wounds to cover the ground around him. When he finally began to settle back down, Rowan's dark brows pulled together as a scowl formed on his brooding features. "As much as I'd like to say this is really touching and heartfelt . . . you makin' this whole damn 'you and me are the same' confession as I lay here thinkin' jus' how damn good it would be to rip your throat apart . . . well, I'd probably being lying." The vampire hesitated for a moment as he licked his lips, and Dean could clearly see how what he was saying was tearing him apart inside. "I will kill you, Dean. I'll kill you an' Josh. An' what's more, I'll enjoy it . . . so please, I'm beggin' you, don't do that to me . . . jus' go now."

"No," Dean adamantly refused, "there has to be something we can do. You said your blood was pure . . . pure how?" He thought about the time they were in Rowan's office at the hospital when Joshua was sick, and how he'd witnessed the vampire drinking blood he'd stolen from the hospital's blood bank. "It can't be that pure, you drink other people's blood for Christ's sake. It had to already be tainted."

Rowan eyed Dean for a moment, appearing as if he might be considering the logic of Dean's train of thought, and then grimaced. "While you were snooping around in my office at the hospital, did you happen to notice all my medical degrees hanging on the wall next to my man of the year plaque?" He quirked a brow and then heaved a groan of irritation when Dean shook his head. "No, well maybe that's because I'm not a freakin' doctor, ya dumb-ass. Don't know why my blood is freakin' pure, it just is."

"So we make it pure again," Dean countered smoothly, not daunted in the least by Rowan's growing frustration and anger.

"Sure, why the hell didn't I think of that before I let you stake my ass to this hard freakin' ground, would've saved me a helluva lot of pain," Rowan hissed through clenched teeth. He yanked hard against the stake piercing his right wrist, and Dean cursed under his breath as he noticed it move ever-so-slightly. "Could always just drain me freakin' dry an' run my blood through one of those freakin' water filtration systems. Hell, if it gets all those pesky little contaminates out of your damn drinkin' water, sure as hell should work on my blood."

"What other creatures have pure blood?" Dean continued onward, ignoring Rowan's comments, feeling as if he was on the right track to solve their problem.

"Angels . . . maybe some demons, although, I'm pretty damn sure they aren't gonna wanna share any of their blood with me."

"Like Michael?"

"Michael?" Rowan stared at Dean for a moment before he broke out into a fit of maniacal laughter. "Oh . . . yeah, sure. Michael, who hates me, is gonna just be chompin' at the bit to help me. I mean, sure, he really hates me an' all, but I'm truly surprised that he isn't here right now offerin' up his blood to save my miserable life. Have I failed to mention how much he really an' truly hates me lately? Cause he hates me . . . really, really hates me. But hey, while we're on this whole freakin' fairytale quest, why don't ya head off to the mystical, magical forest, gut me a unicorn, an' maybe, just maybe I can trade my blood for some good old fashion unicorn blood."

"If not Michael, then who else?" Dean pushed onward, noticing how Rowan became more and more agitated as he questioned him. It seemed to Dean as if Rowan knew who could help him, but wasn't even willing to consider the possibility that he could be saved. He then thought of how the doctors at St. Christen's Hospital hadn't been able to draw Joshua's blood to perform any tests to figure out what was wrong with him. "Joshua?" he uttered, fearing that he was right, and if he was, he knew Rowan would never concede to allow the little boy to help him.

"Don't even consider it, Dean," Rowan's tone turned deadly as he glared at Dean. "Told ya, I didn't even want Josh to see me like this, so why the hell do you think I would let you risk his life to save me?"

"So you think it might work, but aren't even willing to give it a try?"

"No, damn it," Rowan snarled, jerking harder on his restraints in an effort to get to Dean, but luckily they still held firm. "Jus' take him, an' get the hell out of here . . . there's only one person who can . . . ." Rowan's voice suddenly trailed off as he looked away from Dean, but he hadn't turned away quick enough to hide the small glimmer of hope that Dean saw clearly etched in his now grayish-white eyes.

"So there is someone who can fix what's wrong with you," Dean muttered with a curt nod of understanding. "An' if it's not Jay, it has to be someone who is like him . . . or is somehow linked to him . . . someone you would consider to be like a holy spirit."

"Damn, Dean, please stop this," Rowan's tone turned to pleading as he began to shiver uncontrollably. "You don't know what you're talkin' about doing . . . I won't let you do this."

"Jax can save you, can't he?" Dean demanded in his most authoritative tone, and when Rowan failed to respond he knew he had his answer. "He can." A look of disgust crossed Dean's features as he stared at the vampire. "You knew it all along, didn't you? Knew he could save you, but you'd rather let yourself be turned into some vile blood-thirsty sonuvabitch instead of asking for some help."

"That's not true, Dean," Rowan snarled, "I'm not too damn proud to ask for his help. It's just that . . well, I . . . I made a mistake," he hesitated, his breath quickening as he clenched his hands into fists. "It was long ago . . . Jax was only a little boy . . . same age as Joshua is now. I got a second chance, an' I ruined it . . . thought I was so damn smart, an' I led Lucifer right to him."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked incredulously, backing slightly away from Rowan.

"I was his Guardian. His damn protector, an' I screwed up royally."

Raking his fingers through his hair, Dean digested what Rowan had just told him, and still couldn't believe what he was hearing. He glanced back toward Bobby's house as he thought of how he had messed up twice since he'd been watching over Joshua, but couldn't see how Rowan could have done any worse. "How the hell did you mess up? Seriously, it couldn't have been any worse than Joshua dying on me."

"One night five demons attacked Jax's family, an' I stopped them. Killed four of them with the Colt, an' let one of them just walk away to tell Lucifer he would never find Jax." Tears slipped down the sides of Rowan's cheeks as he recalled the night he'd failed at protecting Jax. "Thought I was so damn smart . . . so freakin' smart. Thought I could outmaneuver the devil himself, but what I failed to consider was that Jax wouldn't do as I had told him to do."

"What did he do?"

"I marked his hand with a sigil and as it faded away," Rowan's fists clenched even tighter, his fingernails embedding into his skin, leaving thin trails of blood, "as it faded away, all his enemies were supposed to forget about his existence. Only being six, Jax must've decided he wanted to keep the mark, an' so instead Lucifer used it to make me forget that I was Jax's Guardian."

"When did you finally remember?"

"Just about a week or so ago. Michael told me about it when you took Joshua an' left the hospital. Said I'd messed things up enough when I was Jax's Guardian and told me to stay away from you before I damned you to Hell as well." A wry laugh escaped Rowan as he turned his head to look at Dean. "Kind of ironic how I can know so damn much about everyone else's lives, but forget the most important part of my own."

"Wasn't your fault," Dean tried to console, but knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Yeah, it was, Dean. He was freakin' six, for Christ's sake." Rowan's voice rose an octave in anger and frustration. "Damn it, I should've known better than to trust in the fact that he would wash away the mark like I'd told him to do. But I just left and instead of washing it away to seal the incantation, he decided to trace over it repeatedly for well over a freakin' month." Another cry escaped Rowan's lips, but if it was because he was in pain or because of what he had done, Dean wasn't sure. "An' here's the real fun part . . . the real kick in the ass part that makes me think I deserve whatever happens to me. I met up with Lucifer in front of the graveyard the night Jax got hurt an' almost died. He questioned me all about Jax, an' there I was just mentally kickin' myself for not realizing that a special child had been born that I knew nothin' about. Bet ol' Lucifer got a big kick out of that. Baiting me along, all-the-while knowing that I was Jax's Guardian. I'm the biggest freakin' joke there ever was."

"So you made a freakin' mistake, big deal. We've all made them, an' I'm pretty damn sure Jax would understand it wasn't your fault."

"His entire family is gone because of what I did, Dean," Rowan muttered, a look of sad resignation now forming on his features. "That's not the kind of thing a person can easily forgive an' forget."

"Well, I really don't give a rat's ass if he forgives you or not, cause he damn sure is gonna help you," Dean stubbornly declared as he pushed himself into a standing position. If he was going to save Rowan that meant he needed to somehow get Jax to come back to Bobby's house without Sam knowing about it. "Just have to figure out a way to get him — "

At the sound of the back door creaking open, and Joshua crying, abruptly stopped Dean from completing his sentence. Dean swung to find Joshua perched on the stairs, his little hand clenched tightly around his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What's wrong, Jay?" Dean rushed to the little boy, and gently pulled Joshua's hand away from his mouth to see what was wrong with him. Seeing blood staining Joshua's lips and trickling down from the corner of his lips, Dean's heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach. "What happened? Thought Bobby was watching you?"

"Teeth hurt, Chipmunk," Joshua sobbed, his lower lip quivering as he looked up at Dean.

"Open your mouth," Dean ordered, and Joshua rather reluctantly complied. Very carefully as to not hurt the little boy any further, Dean lightly pressed against Joshua's upper gums and blood spurted as a set of sharpened fangs pushed through the softened tissue of his mouth. "Sonuvabitch," He swore as he swung to glare at Rowan, certain he would see some indication of guilt for what he had done to Joshua, but only saw a look of concern etched on the vampire's features. "Jay go back in the house, an' find Bobby for me. Now!"

"B-but it . . . it hurts." Joshua cried even harder as Dean narrowed his eyes menacingly on Rowan. "Y-yer s'pposed take care of me."

"What's wrong with him, Dean?" Rowan asked, raising his head off the ground to look at Joshua, but Dean hastily stepped to the side, blocking the vampire's view of the little boy. When Dean failed to respond, Rowan raise his voice, and hollered, "Damn it, Dean, asked what the hell's wrong with him. You need to take care of him, so do your damn job."

"Plan on doin' my job once Jay's gone," Dean said in a low, deadly calm tone. Without turning back to face Joshua, he once again ordered, "Get in the house now, Jay, an' don't come back out here again." When Joshua still stubbornly refused to move from his spot on the stairs, Dean turned, grabbed hold of his arm and practically dragged the little boy into Bobby's house. "Bobby," he hollered, and within a moment, he saw Bobby coming out from the direction of the bathroom. "Make sure he stays with you," he ordered as he pushed Joshua forward, then swung around to head back outside to where Rowan was, calling back over his shoulder, "have to take care of Rowan then find Michael."

"What happened, Dean?" Bobby asked, clear confusion in his tone. "Why you bein' so rough with the boy?"

"Put my damn trust in a freakin' vampire, that's what happened," Dean muttered as he stalked out the door, stopping only long enough to pick up the heavy mallet that Bobby had used to stake Rowan to the ground with, and then headed over to where Rowan was pinned to the ground. Dropping down on his knees, Dean's hand tightened around the mallet as he glared at the vampire. "I trusted you," he hissed as he raised the mallet and slammed it down hard against the stake piercing Rowan's wrist, "trusted you, and you turned him," he slammed the mallet down even harder onto the stake in the vampire's heart, and Rowan screamed out in agony. "You filthy sonuvabitch, when the hell did you do it?"

"D-didn't d-do any — "

"Liar!" Dean smashed the mallet down against the stake in the vampire's heart again, and Rowan screamed even louder, tears cascading down the sides of his face. "He's got fangs . . . freakin' fangs . . . they just didn't magically appear out of thin air, an' as you're the only freakin' vampire around here . . . I'm pretty much thinkin' that you did it to him."

"Sw-swear I . . . I d-didn't touch h-him . . . h-have to b-believe me . . . ."

"He hasn't left my sight for more than five minutes since we left the church, an' all those freakin' times he was with you," he struck the mallet against the stake in Rowan's wrist, "So don't freakin' lie to me, you sonuvabitch."

"St-stop it, D-Dean . . . sw-swear to God I n-never touched him." Rowan squeezed his eyes shut as Dean delivered another blow with the mallet, and his pitiful cries turned to low savage growls. His eyes snapped back open, and Dean's hand froze mid-strike, fear washing over him as he looked into the vampire's now completely blood-red eyes. "S-said to stop," the vampire hissed through clenched teeth. Glancing down at his left wrist, Rowan balled it into a fist, and jerked hard, ripping his hand free from the restraint. "Told you, I never touched him." He kicked outward and both legs tore free from the stakes. "But why the hell should you believe a blood-thirsty evil sonuvabitch." He gripped hold of the Hawthorn stake piercing his heart, and ripped it out in one swift movement. "Cause of course that would mean that maybe, just freakin' maybe there might be another reason for it, an' why go searchin' for that reason, when I make for such an easy target."

"If you didn't, then who did?" Dean shot back as he scrambled to his feet and backed away.

"Told you they were connected . . . told you once before that if Joshua died, Jax would die," Rowan hissed as he ripped his wrist free of the last restraint pinning him to the ground, the wounds to his body healing over almost instantaneously. "Think that only applies to death, you sorry sonuvabitch?" Rowan leapt to his feet, slowly stalked to where Dean was standing, grabbed the mallet out of his hand and threw it aside. "Jax is Joshua, you dumb-ass . . . what happens to one of them, happens to the other as well. So, I'm pretty much thinkin' Killeon is tryin' to turn Jax."

"Can he turn him?" Dean asked as he slowly backed away, not trusting in the fact that Rowan didn't appear as if he would attack him. "An' what happens if he does?"

"Course he can turn him," Rowan jeered, his demonic laughter filling the air. "It's just a bit harder . . .Jax's will is a helluva lot stronger than most, but if Killeon can get him to kill just one person, everything Lucifer has hoped to accomplish will fall right into line."

"How powerful is Jax?" Dean took another backward step, knowing that Rowan was very close to turning, and needed to be as far away as possible when he did.

"He's more powerful than you could ever possibly imagine . . . fires raining down from the heavens kind of powerful . . . everything that is or ever was, completely destroyed kind of powerful. Does that answer your question?"

"You're talkin about — "

"Armageddon," Rowan smirked, "that's exactly what I'm talkin' about, Dean."

Dean swallowed hard, digesting what he'd just heard as a wave of pure, unadulterated fear washed over him. "Who does Killeon want him to kill?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure, he'll send him after me . . . second," he chuckled, not seeming the least bit worried by the thought of that, "but not before he sends him after someone a little more closely related to you."

"Sammy." Without waiting for Rowan to confirm or deny it, Dean swung around and ran into the house to get Bobby and Joshua.


	7. Chapter 7

so...another chappy...hope everyone enjoys...lol, this is my favorite story in the series, and I am starting to wonder if it just sucks and I am too dumb to realize it so let me know what you think...Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it really means the world to me... bambers;)

_Chapter Seven_

"We gotta go, now!" Dean hollered as burst through the backdoor, and snatched Joshua up off the floor, holding him protectively to his chest. Only taking the time to grabbed his car keys and leather jacket, he rushed for the front door.

"What about Rowan?" Bobby grabbed hold of Dean's arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Thought you said if we couldn't figure out a way to stop him from changin', a load of people were gonna die, an' now ya just wanna leave him here?"

Dean jerked his arm free, and swung to face Bobby. "Too late to save him . . . he's already changed."

Bobby scrubbed a hand across his scruffy beard as he glanced toward the backdoor, and shook his head. "We can't just leave him here like this, Dean. We have to try an' stop him from hurtin' innocent people."

"What part of we can't kill him weren't you understanding?" Dean snapped, and immediately regretted being so sharp in his reply. "Sorry, Bobby, but we have to get to Sammy before Jax kills him."

"Jax? What the hell are you talkin' about?" Bobby grabbed for his jacket, and quickly gathered his hunting gear together. "Jax can barely get out of his own way, don't think you'll have to worry about him hurtin' anyone."

"Huh, I'll try an' keep that in mind when I start seein' fire rain down from the heavens." Dean flung the door wide open, and rushed outside with Bobby close behind. He stopped short, and cursed under his breath when he noticed a tall man, leaning up against the driver's side door of the Chevelle, muscular arms folded across his expansive chest. "Doin' my damn job, Michael, so what the hell do you want?"

"Doing your job," Michael gave a curt nod, and then bobbed his head toward the backyard. "So Rowan was your job? Going after Sam is your job?" He cleared his throat and then gestured toward Joshua. "Everything's your job, except for the one thing I clearly told you to do. Watch over Joshua. Wasn't a hard task . . . hell, eleven other Guardians had him before you, an' not one of them got him killed. Not one of them lost him to a bunch of blood-thirsty vampires. An' not one single one of them allowed him to be turned into a vampire. So doing your damn job, I really don't think so."

The very last thing Dean wanted or needed at the moment was for Bobby to see what a huge failure he had been at protecting Joshua, and he wasn't about to give Michael the satisfaction of making him look any worse in the eyes of the older hunter. Handing Joshua to Bobby, Dean motioned for them to go back inside the house, fairly certain that they were safe from Rowan as long as Michael was around. Once they were gone, Dean turned back to face the archangel, and his anger ignited. He knew he had made some mistakes along the way, but also knew that Joshua turning into a vampire was definitely not one of them, and he would be damned if he let Michael lay the blame for it at his feet.

"You know, I'm gettin' pretty damn sick an' tired of you findin' fault with every freakin' thing I do." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, and continued, "An' you know what, I did try to help Rowan . . . an' I just can't find it in myself to feel sorry about it. So, if I'm gonna be damned to Hell for it, then just get it over with now cause the way I see it, if Jax kills Sam we're all pretty much screwed anyway."

Michael was silent for a moment as he stared directly into Dean's eyes, and to Dean it seemed as if the angel was reading his thoughts, searching for something that would make it okay to send him to Hell, but then the Archangel unexpectedly smiled. "I saw you give Rowan some of your blood."

"So what about it?" Dean said defensively, certain Michael was about to read him the riot act for helping Rowan.

"Compassion for the enemy," Michael stated simply as he pushed away from the car and came to stand directly in front of Dean. "And instead of trying to make a deal to save Joshua, you went to a church seeking answers."

"Just couldn't make another deal."

"No, you went there because you finally realized that some things are just out of your hands." He paused for a moment and looked at Dean, and again it seemed as if he were searching out Dean's thoughts. "You may not realize it, Dean, but you are changing. You're becoming everything you need to be . . . everything that He needs you to be." He bobbed his head toward the heavens.

"Really don't think I've changed at all," Dean countered, not liking how the angel made it sound as if he had been judged and was found to be sorely lacking before Joshua came into his life. "The way I see it, I'm just doing what I've always done. Only thing now is that I've got the added bonus of havin' you on my back to tell me how I've screwed everything up along the way."

"So you regret your friendship with Rowan?"

"Didn't say that."

"But yet you're just ready to walk away from him now when he needs you the most. Would he have done that to you?"

"It's too late, he's already changed," Dean muttered, and was somewhat surprised how broken-hearted that one statement made him feel.

"I didn't ask if it was too late to save him . . . asked if he would have done that to you?"

Dean recalled the day that Rowan found him at the church after Joshua had died, and how the vampire had vowed that he wouldn't give up until he'd somehow saved Dean from Hell. There wasn't a doubt in Dean's mind that the vampire would have done exactly as he said, and a churning surge of guilt rumbled through body.

"No, he wouldn't have," Dean conceded with a deep groan, "but for what it's worth, I think if I had more time, I think I could've save him."

Michael gave a nod of understanding. "But what about faith, Dean? How much faith do you have in your friendship with Rowan? An' do you honestly believe you would've had enough faith in yourself to save him without the help of Sam or your father?"

"All comes back to faith with you doesn't it?"

"Course it does," Michael said with a smile, "now answer the question. If I could give you more time, could you save Rowan or not?" There was an eagerness in the angel's tone that gave Dean pause to wonder why he should be so concerned over the well-being of a vampire, and especially Rowan, who up until this point, he had seemed to loathe.

"Why this sudden interested in saving Rowan?" Dean eyed the angel suspiciously, "you've never given a rat's ass about him before, an' now all of the sudden the big push to save his miserable life. Tell me what's changed?" The grin slid from Michael face as he stood silently, staring at Dean. Shifting uncomfortably under such close scrutiny, Dean lowered his head and took several backward steps. "There has to be a reason why you want me to save him."

"You need Rowan to save Jax," Michael reluctantly admitted after several very long seconds. "You don't save Rowan, an' it causes one huge ripple effect. Joshua suffers, Jax suffers, and everyone you've ever known or cared about dies. So tell me this, Dean? How far and to what depths of Hell are you willing to travel through to save whatever goodness is left in this world? Because that's exactly what I am asking you to do, an' if you don't think you're up to the job then you've pretty much damned everyone all to hell."

"Huh, could've just said I needed to save Rowan to save Sam, an' I would've went for it," Dean chuckled weakly, "but I guess bein' an Archangel an' all, you just had to go for the whole fire and brimstone dramatic flare, didn't ya?"

"Glad you're finding the humor in this, Dean, now give me your arm." Without any sort of warning, Michael lashed out and he snatched the amulet from around Dean's neck. Almost reluctantly, Dean held out his arm to the Archangel, and grimaced as Michael used the amulet like a blade and sliced through his skin. Once he'd cut deep enough, he pressed the amulet against the deep gash, soaking the metal in Dean's blood. "Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti: ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandan omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri, Jesu Christ: qui venturus est judicare vivos et sæculum per ignem."

"You blessed my blood?" Dean asked, somewhat in shocked awe as he watched the blood drip from his arm to splatter on the gravel. "Why?"

"From the way I can see it, my blessing your blood makes it just about as pure as your gonna get for now," Michael explained as he handed the amulet back to Dean. "An' the power from your amulet will protect you to a certain extent — "

"Wait — you're hoping that he'll bite me," Dean said in a breathy rush, horrible understanding dawning on him. "You think that if he does, it will reverse whatever's happening to him long enough that we can get to Jax, don't you?"

"No, you're going to let him bite you, and let me make this abundantly clear to you," Michael eyed Dean as he folded his arms across his chest, "his blood doesn't need to mingle with yours to turn you into a vampire. If he does bite you, you will turn."

"You're askin me to . . . you want me to . . . ." Dean shook his head emphatically, "no . . . there has to be another freakin' way. I haven't fought these damn things all my life just to allow myself to become one of them now."

"Forgive me, did I make that sound as if you had a choice in the matter," Michael replied sarcastically, not showing the slightest remorse for what he was asking Dean to do. "Because you will do exactly as I told you to do, Dean."

"An' if I say no?"

Michael shrugged, then turned and strode away from Dean, calling back over his shoulder. "Without so much as batting an eye, you sold your soul to save Sam. Your brother is only one man, Dean. I'm talking about millions upon millions of men, women and children . . . so, let me tell you what, you do what you think is best, an' as the body count starts to rise, I'll try to do my damnedest to remember that you had moral objections to doing what I asked of you."

Dean stood there for several seconds, watching Michael's retreating form, guilt eating away at his insides as he weighed his options. He opened his mouth to argue, to find some reason why he shouldn't do as Michael had asked, but the angel had laid on the guilt so thick it was nearly suffocating Dean, and he knew in his heart that he couldn't say no.

"What if it doesn't work?" Dean called out to Michael, stopping the angel dead in his tracks. "What if he bites me an' I turn into a freakin' vampire, but nothing changes?"

Michael swung back to look Dean in the eyes, and a smirking grin briefly crossed his features. "Well, then I'll admit I was wrong an' that it was a bad idea to begin with."

"Oh, well in that case, let me just run right back there an' get my freakin' neck chewed off, cause God only knows how freakin' much I want to hear you admit you were wrong about something."

"Huh, that sounds a bit like sarcasm, Dean," Michael chuckled, "good to know that you've kept you're witty sense of humor about things." He gestured toward the backyard, and let out another short laugh. "Better get back there, think he's waiting for you."

"You really suck, you know that right?" Dean grumbled as he turned on his heel and headed toward the back of the salvage yard. "An' I hope you know, if this doesn't work, the first person I'm comin' after is you. Michael, the Archangel vampire, has a real nice sounding ring to it, doesn't it?"

Dean stopped short when he came around the side of the house and noticed Rowan stalking back and forth, with fists tightly clenched, like a wild caged animal ready to strike. Low vicious growls reached Dean's ears, and he immediately took several backward steps. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and the nape of his neck, as a shiver of fear coursed its way down his spine. _Can't do this . . . can't freakin' do this . . . damn it, what if Michael's wrong? What if I do this and it doesn't work, what's to stop him from going after Jay and Bobby?_ _What if I turn and go after them? This is so definitely a bad freakin' idea._

"What the hell are you still doin' here, Dean?" Rowan snarled as he strode to where Dean was standing. His fists clenched even tighter as he shuddered, another fierce growl erupting from his lips. "You must really want to die. Either that or you're extremely stupid an' think you still can save me."

Dean swallowed hard, trying to quell his trembling nerves, and slow his rapidly beating heart. Narrowing his eyes on the vampire, he scowled, and took several steps forward so that they were standing face to face. "Naw . . . jus' wanted to see how pathetic you really are. An' I have to say, I'm not disappointed. There was no way in hell you were ever gonna be saved. You're totally freakin' worthless," he taunted in an attempt to make Rowan angry enough to attack him.

"Damn it, Dean, stop this," Rowan's body began to tremble as he backed away, the muscles and veins in his arms and neck bulging as he tried desperately to regain control over himself. "If you think I won't kill you, you're freakin' wrong . . . an' I'll make you suffer first. Walk away now while you still have the chance."

"Heaven doesn't want you . . . an' Hell can't stomach the sight of you," Dean chuckled, "you really are the biggest freakin' joke in the whole damn world." As Rowan's face contorted in rage, Dean cocked a brow as a smirk slid across his features to mask his growing fears. "What's the matter, Rowan, does the truth freakin' hurt? Michael gave you your second chance to make things right, an' you screwed it up royally . . . you're nothin' but a sorry sonuvabitch, an' that won't change even if you live another thousand years."

"You sonuvabitch," Rowan hissed as he lunged at Dean and slammed him up against the side of the house. "Watched out for you," he smashed his fist into Dean's face, stunning him momentarily with the force of the blow. "Made sure you were safe from Lucifer," another fist connected with Dean's lower jaw, and his head snapped to the side, but still he didn't fight back. "Would've fought my way through Hell to protect you." Slamming Dean against the wall again, Rowan kneed him in the gut, and Dean's breath left him in a heated rush. "Every damn thing I've done was to keep you from harm." Rowan swung Dean around and threw him into a pile of stacked cars. A cry of pain tore from Dean's lips as a twisted piece of metal from one of the crushed vehicles, ripped through his jacket and pierced his flesh, pinning him to the car. Blood oozed from the deep gash in Dean's lower back, quickly staining his flannel shirt crimson.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan smiled as he stalked to Dean and gripped hold of his shirt. "But you know what?" His gaze turned deadly, blood-red eyes locking with Dean's as he breathed in deeply again. "I like the scent of your blood . . . can smell the unadulterated fear in it," he turned his head from side to side as he sniffed the air, and then licked his sharpened fangs, "an' no matter how hard you try an' hide it, I can hear the pathetic sound of your heart beating faster an' faster." The vampire's head dropped backwards for the briefest of moments before it snapped forward, and he drove his fangs into the side of Dean's throat.

Gasping for breath, Dean tried to push the vampire off of him as he felt a warm trail of blood dripping down his neck to cover the collar of his shirt. His eyelids fluttered open and closed as he fought to stay conscious, but knew he was quickly losing the battle. Rowan gorged himself on Dean's blood, biting in deeper, and tearing through the artery at the side of his neck. Dean's lifeblood spurted from his throat as he felt himself grow increasingly light-headed and dizzy, Rowan and the salvage yard, shifting in and out of focus. His head lolled forward to butt up against Rowan's then drooped to the side as he lost his footing and slid downward, the sharp piece of metal in his back, slicing a jagged path through his skin.

"St-stop . . . pl-please . . . stop, R-Rowan," Dean begged in a breathless whisper, tears slipping down his cheeks as he cried out in pain. "W-was t-tryin' ta s-s-save y-ya."

Roughly pushing Dean away from him, Rowan swiped a hand across his face, wiping away the blood trickling down from his lips. "You're a freakin' liar. You don't give a rat's ass about me . . . jus' another freakin' useless vamp to you." He jabbed his index finger into Dean's chest. "But, I guess the joke's really on you cause now you'll get an' up close an' personal look at how the other half really lives." His sardonic laughter filled the air as he cupped hold of Dean's chin and jerked his head backwards, so Dean was looking him squarely in the eyes. "Course I'm using the word 'lives' figuratively cause you really can't lose as much blood as you have an' still be alive."

"Th-think I d-didn't know th-that when I . . . when I c-came back here," Dean mumbled, his head lolling to the side again as Rowan abruptly released his hold on his chin. Clamping his hand down against the gash on the side of his neck, Dean peered up at Rowan and noticed a slight tinge of green returning to the vampire's eyes. "Michael . . . he — he . . . ." his voice trailed off as he struggled to draw in a shallow breath and could feel the blood rising in the back of his throat. "Bl-blessed my bl-blood." he gestured toward Rowan's now pale green eyes, and a faint smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "An' i-it w-worked."

"No." Rowan shook his head emphatically, then gripped hold of Dean and pulled him away from the car. "No, you wouldn't . . . no one's ever . . . damn it, Dean. What the hell did you do . . . what the hell did you make me do?" With Dean in his arms, Rowan slid to the ground. Very gently, Rowan lifted Dean's upper lip and pressed down against his gums, and a set of sharpened fangs pierced through the soft tissue of his mouth. A look of pure self-loathing flitted across his features as he turned his head away from Dean to look toward the house. "You'll be hungry soon, Dean . . . so damn hungry, an' then what the hell do you plan on doin' about it?"

"Hadn't really th-thought that f-far ahead." A faint, breathless chuckle issued past Dean's lips as he weakly raised his arm and gestured off to the right, "th-think there's a cow pas-ture n-nearby . . . maybe do a l-lil' grazin' there."

"Glad you're finding this so damn amusing, cause you sure as hell wouldn't be laughing when you realize that it won't be enough . . . it'll never be enough, an' eventually you will give in to it."

"H-had to s-save you," Dean's voice hitched in his throat as his body began to tremble uncontrollably. "N-need your . . . n-need your h-help t-to save Jax," he swallowed hard as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier and everything began to blur, "s-save S-Sammy. . . ."

Rowan rubbed at the moisture gathering at the corners of his now bright and stormy green eyes, and then glanced over to where he had been staked to the ground. As he looked at the spot where his own blood stained the ground, he craned his neck to listen, and could hear the sounds of Joshua and Bobby's strong heartbeats as the weak thrumming of Dean's heart grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared all together. Rowan glanced down at Dean, and a broken sob caught in the back of his throat when Dean took one last slow, staggered breath and his eyelids slid closed. Heaving a deep, heartbroken groan, he stood and lifted Dean's lifeless body into his arms. "Alright, Dean," he muttered in a breathless whisper, "we'll save Sam . . . I swear to God we will," he vowed as he strode to the Chevelle and carefully placed Dean on the passenger's seat and slammed the door shut. "An' I swear on my life, I'll fix what I've done to you . . . I won't let you live like this . . . I just won't." Rubbing his eyes, he brushed away the tears slipping down his cheeks as he slid behind the wheel of the car, and then cast a sidelong glance in Dean's direction. "How could you do this to yourself, Dean . . . an' how the hell am I supposed to live with what I've done?"

Rifling through Dean's pockets, Rowan found the car keys, and started the car, revving the engine several times before he peeled out of the driveway and headed toward Las Vegas with a glint of pure determination in his eyes. "Killeon wants a freakin' war . . . good, cause I'm gonna bring so much damn Hell down on him that he'll be prayin' to God that I'll jus' kill him an' get it over with."

Chapter End Notes:

so, i have to say that i really loved writing this chapter... I just love the thought of Dean becoming a vampire...how freakin' sexy is that!! Hope that in someway i have surprised or shocked you...thanks again for reading!! bambers;)Latin blessing sited from Wikipedia...

Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti: ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandam omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri Jesu Christ: qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos et sæculum per ignem.

(I exorcise thee in the name of God the Father almighty, and in the name of Jesus Christ His Son, our Lord, and in the power of the Holy Ghost, that you may be able to put to flight all the power of the enemy, and be able to root out and supplant that enemy and his apostate angels; through the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire.)


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks so much for reading and for the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Eight_

Dean drew in a staggering breath, arching forward in his seat as a sharp, searing pain ripped through his entire body. A growing ache in the pit of his stomach, unlike anything he had ever felt before, ate away at any other conscious thought he might have had. A sick feeling washed over him as he realized he was hungry.

He blinked rapidly and then shielded his eyes from the intense light streaming through the front windshield. Rowan grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the dashboard, handed them to Dean and motioned for him to put them on.

"Takes a while, but you'll get used to the light," Rowan muttered, not taking his eyes off the road. "Your neck's healed up," he went on to say as if they were having a normal conversation, and not discussing the fact that Dean was now a vampire, "an' I checked the wound on your back at the last gas station we stopped at, and it's healed over as well."

"How long have I been out of it?" Dean asked, hugging his arms around his waist, a deep groan escaping him as he felt a deep rumble in the pit of his stomach.

"About six or seven hours."

Dean glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find Joshua and Bobby in the backseat, and when he saw no one, he swung back to glare at Rowan. "Where are they? I'm supposed to be watching Jay, how could you just leave him behind?"

"Relax, Dean. I called Bobby from your cell phone about an hour ago to tell him where we'd be, an' told him to follow us at a slower pace." Rowan fell silent for a moment, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he chanced a glance in Dean's direction. "Figured you needed the time to adjust . . . to get yourself under control before you do something you'd regret."

"I wouldn't . . . I mean, I would never . . . ." Dean's voice trailed off as fear took hold that he wouldn't be able to control himself the way Rowan did.

"You don't know that, Dean," Rowan cautioned, "I mean, I can help you, but there's no real way of knowing what you're capable of doing once you're hungry enough." He was quiet again for several minutes, training his sights on the road ahead as several cars sped past the Chevelle.

Dean shuddered as he heard the other driver's heartbeats, and listened to their blood rushing through their veins, and hugged onto his stomach even tighter, feeling as if he might throw up at any given moment. "Feel sick, Rowan, pull over," he barely managed to choke out before gagging, and quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

"Sick like you're gonna throw up, or sick like your freakin' starvin' and that man in the car we just passed is lookin' like dinner to you?"

"Both," Dean gagged again at the thought of what he'd just admitted. "Damn it, jus' stop the freakin' car."

Slamming on the brakes, Rowan veered to the shoulder of the road, and the car screeched to a grinding halt. Dean flung open the car door and had barely managed to make it out of the vehicle before dropping to the ground to retch. Doubling over, he hugged his stomach as he continued to throw up. Rowan placed a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder as he crouched beside him.

"Been giving this some thought, Dean," he said, turning his head away as Dean gagged again, "an' I'm guessin' that Michael wouldn't have allowed you to do this if he thought it would be permanent."

"No, he would've told me if it wasn't." Dean swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and pushed backward to sit on the hard dirt ground. "Said if I saved you, I would turn. He made it very clear."

"Did he happen to throw the word faith around, like 'hey, Dean, let's see how much faith you've really freakin' got. Go get your sorry ass turned into a vampire without any hope for redemption an' that'll prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that your worthy of what God has given you'?"

"He didn't phrase it exactly like that," Dean brusquely raked his fingers through his hair, and then scrubbed his hand across his face as he looked at Rowan, "but yeah, he did say a lot of crap about having faith in myself to save you."

"It's what Michael likes to call a Crucible Creed." Rowan grimaced as he shook his head in disgust. "A severe test or trial to see how much faith and trust you put in God and yourself. Think of it as if you were Jonah in the belly of the whale. Stuck there, alive, never thinkin you're gonna get out until you finally bend your will to His an' then you're released." A deep sigh issued past Rowan's lips as he shook his head again then lowered it to look at his hands. "Do you trust me, Dean? I mean, really trust in the fact that I will never intentionally do you any harm?"

Dean thought about all Rowan had said, and it did make a lot of sense that Michael wouldn't purposely want to make him into a blood-sucking killer, although he still had trouble believing the angel would keep that kind of information from him. And he thought it very odd that the only one who had been completely truthful with him was one of the creatures he'd sworn with his life to kill.

"Yeah, I trust you."

"Good," he held out his hand to Dean, "give me your amulet."

"My amulet?" Dean quirked a brow in confusion.

"Just give it to me, we really don't have time to argue about this."

Somewhat reluctantly, Dean removed the chain from around his neck and handed it to Rowan, and watched as the vampire sliced through his own wrist with the edge of the amulet. When he was finished, he whispered the same prayer as Michael had used to bless Dean's blood. He held his arm out to Dean and waited. Dean eyed the blood snaking a trail down Rowan's hand to splatter in the dirt, and winced as he felt his fangs pierce through his gums.

"Go ahead, Dean, it's better than havin' you kill someone to get their blood."

"I . . . I can't . . . ." Dean swallowed hard, his mouth watering at the sight of the blood dripping from Rowan's fingertips. "I'm not a freakin' blood-thirsty sonuvabitch . . . damn it, I'm not."

"Whether you like it or not, that's exactly what you are," Rowan argued, shoving his bleeding wrist even closer to Dean's face. "Blessed my damn blood. It's about as pure as you're gonna get, so stop bein' a stubborn ass and drink it."

"No!" Dean turned his head away, refusing to accept what he was becoming, but couldn't deny how his lips quivered with anticipation at the mere scent of Rowan's blood.

"Fine." Rowan got to his feet and stalked to the road, standing directly in the middle of the street as an oncoming car headed straight for him. "If my damn blood's not good enough for you, I'll find you someone else's." Rowan waved his arms to flag down the driver, and the car began to slow down.

"Get out of the freakin' road, Rowan," Dean snarled as he shot to his feet, and began pacing restlessly. "I'm not gonna kill anyone." But even as Dean said this, a torrential surge of adrenaline and desire to kill coursed through his entire body as he covered his ears, trying to block out the steady thrum of the driver's strong heartbeat. "Said let 'em go . . . I'm not gonna do this."

"Admit it, Dean, if you were gonna stop me, you would've done it already."

The car veered off to the shoulder of the road, and a dark-haired male not much younger than Dean, rolled down his window. He nudged his head toward the Chevelle, and asked, "Havin' car trouble?"

Rowan walked the short distance to where the man's car was parked, and rested his bloody forearm against the door. "Yeah, we were just thinkin' about gettin' some dinner, and then the damn car died." He hitched a thumb back over his shoulder toward Dean, and added, "My friend over there loves classic cars, but doesn't know the first damn thing about fixing them." He chuckled, hearing Dean let out a slew of low curses aimed directly at him. "He doesn't usually act like this, but he has a problem with really low blood sugar, an' gets kinda testy when he doesn't eat on time. So you think you might be able to give us a hand?"

"Sure, I can help," the man said as he got out of his car, and headed for his trunk. "My Dad's a mechanic, so I know quite a bit about cars."

"Huh, God must be smilin' down on us from Heaven, Dean." Rowan turned back to smirk at Dean, and then refocused his attention on the unsuspecting man. "Here we have car trouble out in the middle of nowhere, an' the very first person we happen to stop knows a little something about fixing engines. Almost seems like fate, doesn't it, Dean?" he asked as he slammed the car door shut and followed the man around to the trunk of the vehicle, hovering over him in a ominous fashion.

Dean stood mesmerized by the sound of the man's blood rushing through his veins. His lips began to trembled as the man's heart rate suddenly increased at the sound of the door banging shut, and Rowan being so close. Breathing in deeply, he caught the scent of the younger man's growing fear, and his stomach began to churn violently at the thought that it excited him and further increased his hunger.

"Can fix my car myself," Dean muttered, taking a few steps toward Rowan and the younger man. "Don't really need any help."

"No, Dean, I really don't think you can," Rowan was quick to object. "I don't really think this is something you can fix on your own."

"Said I don't need his help, Rowan." Dean took several more steps toward Rowan, but stopped short when he heard the younger man's heart skip a beat, and then set off at a frantic pace. "Not when I have you right here willing to lend a helping hand when I need it the most."

"Thought you didn't want my help." Rowan quirked a brow as he narrowed his sights on Dean, and the beginnings of a gloating smile slid across his hawkish features. "This guy seems more than willing to help you out, an' his father is a mechanic, after all. An' the way I figure it is, if his father's any good at what he does for a living, it probably runs in the blood . . . an' don't ya jus' wanna see if it runs in the blood, Dean?"

Gripping hold of the younger man's arm, Rowan roughly pushed him toward Dean. The man stumbled, falling face first to the ground. As he glanced up fearfully, Dean caught sight and was held entranced by the thick bluish vein in his neck. Dean's head dropped back onto his shoulders as his fangs pierced though the soft tissue of his gums, and he began to tremble uncontrollably as he fought the urge to lunge forward and sink his teeth into the man's throat.

"Please, let me go," the younger man begged, tears rolling down his cheeks. "You — you can have all my money, whatever I've got . . . jus' please just let me go . . . I've got a wife and baby at home . . . ."

Drawing in a staggering breath, Dean turned his back on both men as he fought a losing battle to regain control of himself. "Proved your point, Rowan," he uttered in a weak, shaky voice, "now get him the hell out of here, an' help me like you freakin' promised."

Rowan grabbed hold of the man, and hauled him to his feet, but didn't release his hold on him. "You sure, Dean? Cause I don't wanna have to go through this again the next time you get hungry."

"I said you proved your point, what more do you want from me?"

"I want you to admit to yourself what you are, Dean. An' I want you to realize that you can't do this on your own. Cause like it or not, you are a vampire, an' if this is just a freakin' test of faith then the only way you're gonna get through it is if you let me help you."

Releasing his hold on the younger man, Rowan nudged his head toward the man's dark blue sedan. "Get the hell out of here, an' don't you ever stop for strangers again. Hear me?" He looked the man squarely in the eyes, and waited until he saw him nod before he continued, "You never know what you might be getting yourself into, an' I wouldn't want your wife an' little baby to have to suffer because of stupidity on your part."

Without needing any more encouragement than that, the terrified man scurried to his car, got in and sped away. After the man had hightailed it out of there, Rowan strode to where Dean was standing, and without a word he held out his arm, patiently waiting for Dean to give in to his hunger.

When Dean hesitated and began pacing restlessly once more, Rowan finally said, "Just shut your eyes and get it over with, Dean. I promise it'll get easier as time goes by."

"Really, Rowan, cause I don't want it to get easier," Dean snarled, "wanted to kill that guy, wanted to rip his throat wide open, an' if he hadn't left when he did, I probably would've."

"No you wouldn't have," Rowan cast Dean a carefree smile, not at all surprised by his admission.

"How the hell could you possibly know that . . . was so freakin' close . . . you have no idea how close."

Rowan shrugged, his smile never faltering as he said, "Cause I wouldn't have let you. You may have been able to hurt him, but I could take you, Dean. An' believe me when I say that's not a threat, but the cold harsh truth. I could rip you apart without so much as breaking a sweat, so you'll never have to worry about killing an innocent person while I'm around, got me?"

"Rather full of yourself, aren't you?" Dean grinned, his anger abating as he realized that Rowan was being completely sincere.

"I have my moments." The vampire chuckled. "Now drink up so we can get back on the road, cause at this rate, Bobby's gonna beat us to Vegas."

"I really don't wanna do this." Dean's smile wavered as he eyed Rowan's bloody wrist, and unconsciously licked his lips. "I mean, what's it gonna taste like?" He heaved a groan for asking such a stupid question, having tasted his own blood before, but was stalling for time, hoping the gnawing feeling in his stomach would dissipate.

"Had it cherry flavored just for you, Dean." Rowan rolled his eyes and shook his head in clear disbelief. "An' hell, if you want, maybe next time it'll be banana split flavored. What the hell do you think it tastes like?"

Without saying another word, Dean squeezed his eyes shut, and bit down hard onto Rowan's wrist, blood squirting into his mouth and sliding down his throat. A deep guttural groan of pleasure erupted from him as he greedily drank from Rowan's veins, and even as the vampire pushed him away, Dean wanted more.

"Really not so bad, huh?" Rowan pressed the palm of his hand over his wrist in an effort to staunch the flow of blood dripping from his veins, and within a few minutes the wound began to heal over.

"Well, it didn't totally suck if that's what you're asking, " Dean muttered as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and then headed for the car. "I'm driving."

"Alright, but we have one stop to make before we start hunting for Killeon and Jax." Rowan strode to the passenger's side, opened the door and slid into his seat.

"An' where would that be?" Dean asked as he took his seat, and adjusted the rearview mirror.

"Well, I've been giving a lot of thought to this whole Sam can't know you're alive thing, an' how you seem to keep running into each other no matter what, an' I came up with an idea."

"An' what would that be?" Kicking up dust and gravel as the Chevelle peeled out onto the road, Dean hit the accelerator and quickly picked up speed.

"Gonna get you a complete make-over, Dean. By the time my friends are finished with you, not even your own little brother will recognize you."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean balked at the idea, not liking the sound of Sam not being able to recognize who he was.

"Did I sound like I was kidding?" Rowan quirked a brow. "I'm not gonna get you plastic surgery if that's what your worried about, just something temporary so you can finish your job taking care of Josh without having to worry about breaking your deal with Michael."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut, realizing Rowan had a point. It would be a helluva lot easier to keep an eye on Sam if his little brother didn't know what he looked like. "Alright, but it better only be temporary."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Not even two hours later, Dean was sitting in a salon-style chair with six people hovering over him, each taking turns doing something to his face or body. Rowan had explained to him on the way there, that he had hired several make-up artists and hairstylists from a movie studio, and that they were some of the best in the business.

A short, sandy blond-haired woman, in her late twenties was the first to work on him, shaving his five-day growth of stubble. Although he had no mirror to see what he looked like, he knew from touching his face that she had left him with a goatee and the beginnings of a beard that trailed up his jawline to connect with his sideburns.

When she was finished with that, another woman set to work on his hair as a short Asian man picked out new clothes for him to wear. Dean grimaced as the dark-haired man showed him a pair of black leather pants with matching trench coat.

"So not wearin' those, Rowan," Dean yelled over to the vampire who was busy pointing to different pictures in a photo album. The subtle smirk on Rowan's face, told Dean that he was definitely not gonna like whatever was going to happen next.

"An' here I thought you'd like the leather pants," Rowan laughed.

"Well, you thought wrong cause I ain't wearin' them."

"Alright, Pete, lose the leather pants, black jeans will be fine, but he's keeping the trench coat," Rowan ordered, and Pete immediately complied.

"What's in those photo albums?" Dean bobbed his head toward the book in Rowan's hand.

"Tattoos . . . loads and loads of tattoos."

"Thought you said this wasn't going to be permanent?"

"Relax, Dean," Rowan said without glancing up from the book, "they'll only be temporary, but we have to cover that tattoo you have on your chest or else forget the whole idea." Nudging his head toward Dean, the Asian man nodded in understanding, and before Dean knew what was happening, the man had pierced his left ear.

"Sonuvabitch," Dean swore, and grabbing a hold of his ear, he felt a studded earring. "Damn it, Rowan, this is freakin' permanent."

"Yeah, I know, but I couldn't resist." With that, Rowan smirk widened to a grin and then full-out riotous laughter. "Don't worry, it's a good look on you." More laughter escaped the vampire as he once again resumed looking through the pictures of the tattoos.

After several hours of doing everything physically possible to change his appearance, the make-up crew was finished. Rowan had one of women roll out a full length mirror so Dean could see what he looked like. Dean's mouth drooped out, in stunned shock as he brushed his fingers through the spiky neon blue mohawk, he was now sporting. One of the women had put black eyeliner under his lower lashes and had smeared a thin line on his eyelids, framing his green eyes with the color. Various tattoos littered his chest and upper and lower arms, depicting skulls, crosses, and a multitude of demons. The image of a yellow-eyed demon, clawing its way out from beneath Dean's skin covered over the tattoo he had gotten as protection against demon possession, and it was the one thing he truly hated the most about the whole make-over.

"Blue," was all Dean could think to say as he continued to stare at his reflection in the mirror.

"Would you've preferred hot pink?" Rowan asked, having trouble keeping a straight face.

"I look freakin' ridiculous," Dean grumbled, "an' tell me again, why I'm not wearing a shirt under this trench coat?"

"You wanna be able to show off all those really awesome tats, now don't you?" A grin slid across Rowan's features as he gestured to all the markings covering Dean's body. "Some of Kevin's best work yet, an' it would be a damn shame to cover them up." He bobbed his head toward the door, and motioned for Dean to follow as he further added, "Besides, it's not like Sam would be expecting to see you in a long leather trench coat, sporting numerous tattoos, without a shirt on. It's absolutely perfect. I'm a freakin' genius."

"No, you suck, now let's get the hell out of here before I change my mind about this."


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks so much for reading and for the awesome reviews!! please let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Nine_

Sam subtly glanced over the top of his menu to look at Jax, and noticed the same smirking grin the younger man had been wearing almost constantly for the past two days. To Sam, it seemed as if Jax were somehow different, although he couldn't quite put a voice to the nagging fears that lingered in the back of his mind. Yet if he had to venture to guess as to what was really bothering him about the younger hunter, Sam would have to say that Jax seemed rather disconnected. Sure, he smiled at all the appropriate times, laughed when something struck him as funny, and trained relentlessly under Sam's watchful supervision. However, not even once did he try to engage Sam in any sort of discussion pertaining to Dean or Nick, nor did he start any arguments or finish them for that matter. The Jax he'd come to know over the past month, liked to argue, loved to get in some smart-ass remark, and was thrilled when he could talk his way around any fight they had gotten into. The Jax sitting across the table now was cool to the point of being uncaring, and that was just not the Jax Sam knew.

Without glancing up from his menu, Jax muttered, "Christo," then chuckled as he peered into Sam's eyes. "Figured I might as well say it before you did . . . again." Jax set aside his menu and took a sip of his water, before adding, "Guess that means it's safe for you to eat your lunch. Going to have the grilled chicken again or maybe take a trip on the wild side and order a cheeseburger and fries? Live dangerously, Sam, order the burger, you only live once, might as well enjoy it while you can."

Stomach churning, Sam cast aside his own menu, and reached for his laptop. Without Jax's knowledge of it, Sam had been researching into demons who might not be adversely effected by hearing the word Christo, but as of yet, had found nothing. So as far as Sam could tell, the younger man wasn't possessed, but still was leery of the change in Jax.

Jax lifted his glass, and tilted it toward Sam as if he were making a toast, and then uttered, "Calicem vitae dedisti mihi in mortem," and downed the rest of his drink.

"The cup of life is the cup of death," Sam translated, a shiver of dread working its way up his spine. "Didn't think you knew any Latin, Jax."

"You don't know a lot of things about me, Sam," Jax smoothly countered, looking Sam square in the eyes. "Why should it surprise you that I know Latin? My uncle was Pastor Jim, after all."

"Your speech is different, too," Sam observed, mentally kicking himself for not realizing it until this very moment. "An' Jax would never sit here quoting Latin mottos."

"See, I beg to differ, I really think Jax would quote some really cool Latin mottos if he thought it was fitting. An' I think I know him a helluva lot better than you do."

"Nick," Sam breathed, and made to grab for the Colt concealed in his waistband.

"Lucifer." With a slight wave of his hand, an unseen force pinned Sam to the booth, arms stretched outward, away from his weapon. "Relax, Sammy, we're in a nice little restaurant, with a lot of innocent people around. Don't go and ruin everyone's lunch by forcing me to kill them all just because you couldn't be sociable."

"Where's Jax, you sonuvabitch?" Sam snarled as he strained his muscles, trying to break free of Lucifer's hold on him, to no avail.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Lucifer leaned back in his seat, and casually folded his arms over his chest. "Because, seriously, this lack of respect is very disheartening, not to mention just plain rude." Lowering his steely gaze to Sam's throat, Lucifer narrowed his eyes, and Sam began to choke, gasping and coughing loudly as he desperately tried to draw in air. "Let me make this absolutely clear to you, I am not like Azazel, Lilith or any other insignificant little demon you've come across in the past, and you will show me the respect I deserve." With that he released his hold on Sam, and trained his sights on a young, blond-haired man sitting at the counter. "Think I should kill him?" he asked as he tightened his fist and the man clutched at his chest, sputtering and gasping as Lucifer's fist clenched tighter. "Or are we going to sit here and have a civil conversation like two adults?"

"Let him go."

"Let him go, what?" Lucifer smirked, watching the dying man intently.

"Let him go . . . please," Sam managed to choke out, watching in horror as the younger man fell off his stool and writhed around on the ground. Several people rushed over to him, some snatching the cell phones out of their pockets to call for an ambulance.

"See, that wasn't so tough, was it?" Lucifer relaxed his posture, unclenched his fist, and the man immediately stopped squirming.

"Why don't you just kill me an' get it over with?"

Lucifer chuckled, and then shook his head. "Why the hell would I kill one of my horsemen?"

"Horsemen?" Sam quirked a brow in utter confusion.

"Did I stutter?" An amused expression, briefly flitted crossed the demon's features. "What did you think it meant when Azazel said you were going to lead an army? End time Revelations. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Did you ever even read the Bible at all?" he jeered as he pushed forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the table. "Loads of really valuable information in there."

"A rider on a red horse . . . the color of the horse is generally said to be representation of the blood split on the battlefield."

"Ahhh . . . you've restored my faith that some people still do read the Bible . . . or at least parts of it anyway."

"Not gonna lead your damn army, so you might as well kill me now."

"True, I could kill you now, but then you wouldn't be around to see how this all plays out." Lucifer's hand shot forward and gripped hold of Sam's forehead, and Sam saw visions of mass destruction, people screaming and dying in the streets. Impenetrable darkness crept over the land as the sun turned crimson, and then was blotted out all together. Blood flowed through the streets like a fetid river, fire raining down from the heavens above as Sam led an army of demons, killing and destroying anything that crossed their path. Then another rider on a sleek black horse approach, and in his wake, he brought death to everything that remained. Cloaked in deepest midnight black, the man removed his hood, and gave a knowing smile to Sam and Sam nodded in recognition of his brother.

Lucifer removed his hand from Sam's head, and settled back into his seat, a self-satisfied smile lingering on his face as Sam began to break out in a cold sweat. "The Winchester boys reunited at long last, Sammy, isn't that exactly what you wanted."

Sam adamantly shook his head, not believing what he had just envisioned. "D-Dean would never agree to be one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"See, again, I must beg to differ. Dean lost the right to agree or disagree with anything once he sold his soul. An' a month in Hell really has a way of changing a person." Lucifer chuckled. "Just think of it as if your brother was in prison, an' he's now my own personal bitch. He does exactly as I tell him to do, an' I keep him safe from all the demons who would really love to tear him apart."

"I don't believe you. Demons lie, an' so I gotta figure you would lie more than all of them put together."

"Ouch, that really hurts my feelings, Sam," Lucifer started to laugh, but the menacing sound of it died on his lips as he glanced toward the entrance of the diner, and saw two tall, muscular men entered the building. "An' so enters the angelic cavalry, should've figured they would be hangin' around."

The two men strode confidently toward the booth Sam and Lucifer were sitting at, and came to stand directly in front of them. Both men crossed their arms over their equally expansive chests, and glared down at Lucifer. The one man with shoulder length black hair and sparkling blue eyes, Sam instantly recognized as Raphael, and a feeling of immense relief washed over him.

"Larry . . . Curly . . . ." Lucifer nodded in recognition of both men as a smirked played across his features. "Guess that only leaves out the third missing Stooge. So where is ol' Michael anyway? Still workin' on that lost cause of his?"

"You'll be happy to know, things are progressing just as we expected them to," Raphael replied as he took a seat beside Sam.

"You're lying." Lucifer's smile faltered for the briefest of moments as he looked from one angel to the other, and then his grin widened. "We all know that he isn't the right man for the job, even Michael expects him to fail."

"Don't really care if you believe us," Raphael went on to say, "his faith is growing with each passing day, an' even you can't deny that."

Instead of responding to Raphael, Lucifer slid over and patted the seat, eying the other tall golden-haired man. "Never knew you to stand on ceremony before, Gabriel, take a seat an' we'll all order coffee, you know, chat it up like old times." Smirking, he motioned for the waitress to come to the table and take their orders. When the perky blond waitress headed over to wait on them, Raphael hastily waved her away without so much as a single word to her. With a somewhat disappointed look on her face, the girl sauntered away.

Lucifer grabbed Sam's water, took a sip, and licked his lips, before continuing with his taunt. "An' then you can admit my time is finally at hand, and Sammy here," he inclined his head toward Sam, "is about to slip from between your grasp, an' fall into my domain."

"Only He can know in which hour it shall all come to an end," Gabriel replied, his tone as icy as his condemning glare. "You amount to nothing more than an insignificant blade of grass in the grand picture He creates, never forget that, Lucifer."

"But he does grow weary." Lucifer focused his attention on Sam, his wicked smile never faltering as he leaned across the table, and rested his hand on Sam's arm. "You see, Sam, He wanted to give all the undeserving people of the world, one more chance to make things right. But Michael, Raphael and even Gabriel don't believe He made the right choice in the man he handpicked to bring about this new era of peace and harmony." He glanced up at Gabriel, then looked to Raphael, waiting for either of them to deny what he said was true, and when neither said a single word, Lucifer refocused his attention on Sam. "Cause how could they believe in a man who has fallen so far from grace that he's now become the one thing he hates most in all the world? Just an evil sonuvabitch tryin' like hell to pretend like he gives a damn." His hand tightened around Sam's arm, sharpened nails biting hard into Sam's flesh. "A fallen son of an equally fallen father. Makes you really wonder what He was thinking, doesn't it?"

Sam digested all that Lucifer had said, with sudden realization of the double-entendre in his carefully chosen words. "So is it me you're talking about," he said as he studied the demon sitting across from him, watching for any subtle gesture that would say it was him, but saw nothing in Lucifer's passive features, "or is it my brother, Dean?"

"Well, it couldn't be Dean, now could it," Lucifer's grin widened, "cause that would really just suck for you, wouldn't it? Brother dearest outshining you in the eyes of all who matter." He slid back in his seat, and tilting his head to rest against the backrest, he looked heavenward. "An' really, wouldn't that mean he's been alive an' kicking all this time, an' hasn't once come looking for his little baby brother?"

"Lucifer," Raphael outwardly calm facade turned deadly in the mere blink of eye. "Think you need to leave now before I do something that you definitely will regret having done to you."

"You seem to forget, Raphael, we're playing in my sandbox now, an' I can change the rules whenever the mood strikes me. An' you know what, it just did."

"Is my brother alive?" Sam blurted out as he turned questioning eyes to both Gabriel and Raphael. "Damn it, if he is, I have the right to know."

"You're brother made a deal, Sam. He saw that deal through to the very end," Gabriel replied in a calming tone, but for his best intentions, it left Sam feeling anything but calm. "Angels watched over him in those final moments as he stood at the crossroads awaiting his fate. An' his last thoughts were of you."

"Did they weep for him, Gabriel?" Lucifer jeered, "did the skies above open up, showering angel tears down upon him in those last fleeting moments? Did he actually believe they might be crying for him as he awaited his appointment with destiny? An' tell me, did it bring him some small measure of comfort?" He cracked a grin as he lowered his head to look at Sam. "Or was he terrified as all hell? Praying for all he was worth that his little useless brother would come charging in at the very last second possible to save him. But you never did show up, did you, Sammy? An' all that well-earned guilt is eating you up inside," he taunted, his voice turning sing-songy as he further added, "Little Sammy, put a gun to his head, shoulda pulled the trigger, such a shame he's not dead."

"Tried my damnedest to save him," Sam hissed through clenched teeth, his body shaking with barely controlled rage, knowing Lucifer was right. He had been completely and utterly useless in his attempts to save Dean from Hell. "Followed every freakin' lead I could think of to get him out of that deal."

"Huh," Lucifer shrugged, "shoulda probably just killed yourself all those many months ago. You die . . . he lives." His unique blue-green eyes widened slightly as if surprised how easily he had figured out the answer that had alluded Sam all this time. "Wow, an' here I just thought of that as I was sitting here, didn't even take me a whole year to do it in either. I must be a freakin' genius." He rolled his eyes in genuine disgust, and pushed out of his seat to stand. "I mean seriously, Sam, how many times did Dean tell you that if he welched on the deal, you would die? If you were dead, there would've been no deal to welch on, now would there have been? Wasn't brain surgery. Hell, at this point, I'm thinking that fry cook back there," he hitched a thumb over his shoulder, toward the kitchen, "he could've probably figure it out a helluva lot faster than you."

Lucifer turned and sauntered toward the entrance of the diner, calling back over his shoulder, "But I guess I shouldn't be so tough on you, because with every single one of your failed attempts to save Dean, it brought you just a little closer to your own decent into Hell." At the doorway, he turned back to look at Sam, raking a hand through his hair to brush his shaggy dirty-blond bangs out of his eyes as he met and held Sam's gaze. "You were marked as mine from the time you were six months old, Sam, there is no escaping that. Demon blood flows through your veins, and that didn't change just because you died." He yanked open the door, held it for two young women entering the building, and hesitated briefly before further adding, "An' wouldn't you just love to remember what happened to you in those days that you were dead? I mean, aren't you even slightly bit curious as to where you went to, cause it certainly wasn't Heaven." He looked as if he might say more about what had happened to Sam when he was dead, but then shook his head, and instead said, "I'll be seeing you around, Sammy."


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks so much for reading and for the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Ten_

Killeon paced back and forth restlessly, his anger mounting with each passing moment. Every now and again he would stop, eye the door to the room where he was holding Jax hostage, and curse under his breath. Two days of forcing his blood on the younger man, and yet Jax hadn't turned into a vampire. Lucifer had sworn if Killeon bit Rowan, he would be able to turn Jax, but so far it seemed as if the younger man's blood was just too damn pure to be tainted by his own.

Sure, Jax was weakened by the whole ordeal, but Killeon just wasn't certain his considerable efforts would pay off in the long run, and if he was ever going to even the score with Rowan, he needed Jax. Rowan had controlled him, mind, body and soul for far too many years to count, and Killeon was bound and determined to make the older vampire suffer for it. To exact his revenge on Rowan, he needed Jax to give in to him completely, and once he did, Killeon knew exactly who Jax's first kill would be.

From the pocket of his leather trench coat, Killeon yanked out an old worn and faded photo, and studied it carefully, trailing his fingers along the image of the young green-eyed child in the picture. The little boy in the picture was no more than five years old at the time the picture had been taken, but was now probably a year older than Jax, by Killeon's best estimation. Beside the boy stood a woman with long, wavy chestnut-colored tresses, smoky gray eyes, and a radiantly beautiful smile that could make even the hardest and coldest of hearts, melt instantaneously.

For as much as he hated Rowan, he worshiped Genevieve. He loved her in a way that he'd never believed he was capable of, and his soul still ached for her to this day. With her death, Killeon's need for revenge grew, until it was the only thing left to sustain him. Rowan had taken her from him, and in turn, he would take from Rowan until there was nothing left. If he couldn't kill the older vampire, he would make certain the people he cared most for in all the world, suffered in the cruelest ways possible, and Jax was first on that very small list.

_Damn it, you weren't supposed to die, Gen . . . I would've protected you with my life . . . would've died for you._ In his anger and sorrow, Killeon had inadvertently crumpled the photo in his powerful grip, and another slew of curse words ripped from his lips as he desperately tried to work out the deep creases in the picture. When he was finished fixing the photo to the best of his ability, he carefully placed it back in his pocket, and then headed for Jax's room.

The door creaked open, light spilling into the darkened room, and Jax immediately began to squirm and writhe against his shackles. The blinds had all been drawn tightly shut, and even though it was only just getting dark outside, the room was now black as pitch. Killeon flipped on the light switch, and suppressed a chuckle when he saw Jax blink rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Wh-where's Sam, you sonuvabitch," Jax croaked, licking his dried, parched lips.

"He not coming for you, Jax," Killeon chuckled, knowing that Lucifer was keeping the other hunter occupied for the time being. "He told you to get out, didn't he? So why the hell do you think he would come looking for you now?"

"Cause whether or n-not he likes me," Jax drew in a shaky breath, wincing at the burning pain in his throat, "h-he knows I can help him."

With that one simple statement, Killeon realized that as long as Jax believed Sam would eventually come for him, he would never be able to turn him. He needed to crush whatever hope the younger man had left in him, and also knew he was quickly running out of time. Long strides carried him across the room, to stand hovering over the bed Jax was chained to.

"What if he's dead? Can't come to rescue your sorry ass if he's dead."

"He can't be dead," Jax adamantly shook his head, weakly straining against his restraints, "I would . . . ." his voice trailed off as he lowered his head, and turned away from Killeon.

"You would what?" Killeon quirked a brow in sudden interest. Lucifer had said the young man had certain abilities, but he hadn't considered the possibility that Jax could sense the death of someone close to him. A smile slowly spread across his face as he reached out and cupped a hold of Jax's chin, forcing the hunter to look him in the eyes. "You can sense if a person you care about dies, can't you?"

"Never said that," Jax mumbled, jerking away from Killeon's grasp.

"What else can you do, Jax . . . what other secrets are you hiding from the world?"

"I D-don't know what yer talkin' about." Jax shifted restlessly, then began thrashing from side to side, yanking hard on the cuffs around his wrists.

Killeon watched him for a minute or so, knowing that the more he struggled the weaker he would become, and the weaker he was, the easier it would be for the vampire to accomplish his goals. When Jax's strength finally gave out, and he began to settle down, Killeon taunted, "Did you sense the moment your brother died? Did it rip your heart out knowing there was nothing you could do to help him as he screamed and begged for his life?"

"He not dead!"

"As good as dead, is dead just the same, Jax, thought you would have learned that by now." From the look on Jax's face that bordered on utter desolation, Killeon knew he had struck a nerve. "For all those times you tried your damnedest to protect him, you weren't even around when he needed you the most. Really hope stealing a few pairs of jeans was worth your brother's life."

"Didn't go ta jail for stealing any damn jeans," Jax muttered, "an' Nick knew if I'd thought he was in some kinda trouble, nothin' would have kept me from tryin' ta get ta him."

"Trying? Don't you mean failing, cause that's exactly what you did, Jax." Killeon hesitated for a moment, weighing his words, and choosing the ones that would cripple Jax's spirit the most. "Just like you failed to save your mother from shooting herself in the head. Or like how you failed to protect Nick from your father's drunken wrath. Admit it, Jax, you're weak and pathetic. Hell, you can't even save yourself let alone help anyone else. No wonder Sam doesn't want you around. You would have gotten him killed as well." Killeon knew the moment his cruel taunts had hit their mark. Jax's shoulders slumped wearily, all fight leaving him as his eyes filled such immense sorrow that it would have been impossible to miss.

"Would never do anything ta get Sam killed," Jax mumbled dejectedly, his voice thick with emotion.

"He's better off without you . . . everyone is better off without you," Killeon cruelly taunted as he removed his knife from the sheath at his side, and once again sliced into Jax's forearm. "When you come right down to it, it really would've been better for everyone if you had never been born." A hiss escaped Killeon's lips as he cut through his own arm and smeared his blood into Jax's.

Jax immediately began to convulse, his body thrashing wildly, arms and legs pulling hard against his restraints. Killeon smiled, understanding that the younger man was finally beginning to succumb to the inevitable.

"Shhhh . . . relax, Jax," Killeon pressed his hand down hard against Jax's chest, "don't fight it, it'll make things a lot easier for you, if you just give in an' let it happen."

Jax struggled for a few more minutes as Killeon continued to hold him down, and then with a deep gasp, he slipped into unconsciousness. Killeon carefully lifted Jax's upper lip, pressed down on his gums, and swore under his breath when he still saw no signs of any fangs.

"Has he turned yet," came a cold and calculating voice from somewhere near the doorway, and Killeon inwardly cringed. "Cause if he hasn't, I need his blood."

Killeon plastered a smile to his face as he turned to look at Lucifer. "He's close. Course he's fighting it, but it's really only a matter of time now."

Lucifer swaggered into the room and stopped short when he was towering over Killeon. "Give me your knife," he ordered and held out his hand expectantly.

"What are you planning on doing?" Killeon asked as he gave Lucifer the knife, not really expecting an answer, but was still curious.

"Need me an amulet," Lucifer smirked as he cut deep into arm, "so I'm going hunting."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

After Dean and Rowan left from getting Dean's make-over, Rowan drove the rest of the way to Las Vegas and pulled into a rundown no-tell motel. As Rowan parked the Chevelle, Dean threw a questioning look in the vampire's direction, surprised that his friend would choose a dumpy motel to stay at when he had made it perfectly clear that he only stayed in five-star hotels.

"Well, it's really got to be said, this is the worst damn five-star hotel I've ever seen," Dean mocked as he grabbed his duffel from the trunk and then headed for the front office.

Rowan hefted his own duffel over his shoulder and followed Dean. "Killeon knows me too well, he'll be having vamps watch for any signs of us."

The sounds of snickering met Dean's ears as he entered the motel office, and noticed two young men standing behind the counter, pointing at him and Rowan. The taller of the two, made a subtle gesture toward them, leaned over, and whispered very loudly into his friend's ear. "Betcha five bucks they're into S and M. They've gotta have whips an' chains in those duffels."

"Naww . . . ," Dean casually replied with a smirk as he eyed both men, "but I've got a real wicked looking knife in my bag, so maybe you should just shut your freakin' piehole, an' get us a room." His hand slipped to the zipper on his duffel, a gesture that was not lost on either of the two men, and they both practically fell over themselves to get Rowan and Dean a room key. "Make sure it has two beds," he added, certain by their facial expressions a few moments before that they would give them a room with only one king size bed in it.

"Last room on the left," the shorter, greasy-haired man smirked, handing the key to Dean.

Dean snatched it from the man's hand, and waited as Rowan pulled out his wallet to pay for their room. Rowan threw a hundred dollar bill down on the dirty counter, and then strode out the door without waiting for change. Following close behind, Dean heard the vampire chuckling and mumbling under his breath.

"What's so damn funny?" Dean asked as lengthened his stride to match Rowan's.

"That they actually thought you were my type." Rowan cast a sidelong glance in Dean's direction, and teasingly winked at him. "Guess some vamps might find that whole eyeliner thing ya got goin' on pretty damn sexy, but to me you sort of look like a side show freak."

"That freakin' does it, I'm takin' all this crap off," Dean grumbled as he opened the door to their room. His anger increased exponentially as he entered the room and flipped on the light switch. Mouth dropping wide open, he gaped around the room they had been given to spend the night in, and a slew of curses escaped him. Although he'd clearly asked for two beds, only one king size bed sat in the center of the room with a large gilded mirror hanging above it on the ceiling. The room was decorated entirely with gaudy golden cherubs statues and deep burgundy hearts. On top of the satin bedcover, that was several shades darker than the dusky rose-colored rug, was a pile of heart-shaped burgundy pillows.

"Huh," Rowan said as he glanced around the room in utter amazement, "kind of makes you wonder if the tub's heart-shaped, too." He shrugged as he dropped his bag on the ground. "Think we should go an' check?"

"Ummm . . . I'm thinkin' not," Dean snapped as he turned on his heel to leave the room.

"Awww . . . Dean, think they gave us the honeymoon suite," Rowan chuckled, clearly amused with the whole situation. "Wonder if they thought you made a for a lovely bride."

"So not seein' the humor here." Dean kicked Rowan's bag out of the way and headed outside. "An' why the hell do you think I would be the bride anyway? You look more like a freakin' girl than I do."

"Well," Rowan shrugged as he gestured toward Dean's ear, "you have an earring, an' girls wear earrings."

Dean pulled on his earlobe, felt the stud piercing through his flesh, and grimaced at Rowan. "Only have a freakin' earring cause you had that guy pierce my ear before I even knew what was happening."

Rowan grabbed his duffel and followed Dean outside. "Alright, so that was my fault," he snickered, "but I never told them to put makeup on you, an' girls wear makeup, so you are so definitely the bride."

"Said I was takin' it all off," Dean grumbled under his breath, and heard Rowan laugh even harder.

"No, you're not," he finally responded as his laughter died away. "If Sam sees you from any distance, dressed like this," he gestured to Dean's clothes, "and looking like this," he made a sweeping motion over Dean's face, "he'll never know it's you."

"You really suck, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, but at least I'm not the bride."

As they headed back toward the office, an old beat up truck, driven by Bobby, pulled into the parking lot, and he parked beside the Chevelle. Within a matter of moments, Joshua flung the door open and leapt out of the vehicle, raced to Dean and jumped into his open arms. After giving Joshua a quick hug, Dean glanced up at Bobby and saw the incredulous expression that had settled on his craggy features. Dean peered down at his new clothes once again, and cursed under his breath, knowing Bobby was going to rib him about his appearance.

Bobby grabbed his gear, got out of the truck and strode to where Dean and Rowan were standing. A deep frown creased his brow as he nudged his head toward Joshua and then looked to Dean. "So ya stuck me with little Eddy Munster so you ladies could go an' get make-overs?"

"Wasn't like that, Bobby," Dean grumbled, raking his hand through his mohawk. "Did this so Sam wouldn't recognize me."

"Da Grizzly yelled at me, Chipmunk." Joshua pointed toward Bobby, and stuck out his tongue at the older hunter, clearly thinking Dean was going to holler at his friend for yelling at him.

"Damn near tried to bite my hand off," Bobby was quick to defend his actions. "Not like I could take care of him like I do with most vamps. So I hollered at him."

"Hey, whatever works for ya, Grizzly." Dean chuckled, glad to know he wasn't the only one stuck with a new nickname.

"Shut yer trap, boy, an' go get us a couple of rooms." Bobby nudged his head toward the motel office as he set his duffel down.

Dean gave a nod and did as Bobby had asked with Rowan following closely behind him. At the door, Rowan grabbed hold of Dean's arm to stop him.

"When are you planning on telling Bobby what you did?" Rowan asked as he eyed Dean, and then turned to look in Bobby's direction. "Think he has the right to know."

"Not lookin' to get my head lobbed off while I'm sleepin', Rowan."

"Well, I'm sure he's not lookin' to be your late night snack either, so if you don't tell him then I'm gonna have to."

"I wouldn't do that," Dean argued, although deep down he wasn't sure he could stop himself if he was hungry enough and Rowan wasn't around to stop him. For a moment, he hesitated and focused in on Bobby's heartbeat, listening as the older hunter's blood coursed through his veins, and a sharp, staggering pang of hunger nearly overwhelmed him. A muffled cry escaped him as his fangs pierced through his gums, and the taste of his own blood on his lips further elicited his growing hunger.

"You're playin' with fire, Dean, and sooner or later, whether you like it or not you're gonna get burned," Rowan warned as he gripped hold of Dean's arm. "An' the best you can hope for is that when that time does comes, it's not someone you care about that ends up dead because of it."

"So you're sayin' that I won't be able to control it like you do?"

"I'm sayin' that you'll try, but I've been doing this for well over two thousand years, an' still can't completely control myself." Rowan hesitated for a moment as if reflecting on his past, and a pained expression crossed his features before he quickly hid it behind a rakish grin. "Course I never actually killed anyone, but every damn person I ever fed off of, is now a walking, talking, killing example of my lack of self-control." He fell silent again as he looked to Dean, and all traces of a smile disappeared. "Guess I should say I've never killed anyone until you, Dean, cause I drained you bone dry."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asked, throughly confused. He'd always thought that vampires were the walking dead, and now Rowan was telling him differently. Everything his family and Bobby had ever researched supported this theory, and he highly doubted there was anything Rowan could say that would convince him otherwise. He also didn't like the dire sound of what Rowan had said about draining him of all his blood, and a shiver of fear worked its way up his spine as he worried that because of it, he might never be human again. "I mean, they're all dead, right?"

"It's more like a sickness, Dean," Rowan began to explain, scratching his head as he tried to figure out the best way in which to describe what he meant. "If every person who was ever bitten by a vampire turned into one, it would probably support the general theory about my race of people. Those who are drained of all their blood do die, but those who have their blood mingled with a vampire's turn. It taints their blood and becomes like a rabid disease, an' the only way to cure it is if I die. An' seeing as I can't die, the only other way to get rid of my kind is to cut off their freakin' heads."

"An' where does that leave me?" Dean asked, not understanding why he would've become a vampire if Rowan had said he drained him of all his blood. "I'm mean, you said you drained all my blood, so why am I still alive?"

Rowan gave a quick shrug and then shook his head, seemingly just as confused as Dean. "Been tryin' to figure that one out myself, but I dunno, by all rights, you should be dead." A deep frown furrowed Rowan's brow, his features darkening as he contemplated what he'd just said. "Unless you're becoming a whole new breed of vampire, which would definitely not be a good thing."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that you're probably more like me than any other vampire out there. You bite someone they will turn. Which also means that to turn them back into humans, you would have to die just like me."

"So, I don't bite anyone then, gotcha." Dean tried to smile, but found it almost impossible to do so. His hunger was growing by the moment, and he could now clearly hear the heartbeats of both men inside the motel office, along with Bobby's and every other person renting a room in the crappy motel. The constant thrumming was drowning out any other thought but the need to feed, and Dean was beginning to wonder if he was going to be strong enough to fight off the urge.

Rowan must have realized this, and as Dean went to open the door to the office, he gripped a hold of Dean's hand, and gave a firm shake of his head. "You stay here, I'll get us some rooms."

And clearly not trusting the fact that Dean wouldn't attack Bobby while he was inside the office, Rowan called over to the older man, "Bobby, why don't you take Joshua, an' go an' get us some dinner. Then we can start lookin' for Killeon and Jax once you get back."

The older hunter grumbled for a few minutes, but did as Rowan had asked, leaving Dean alone as Rowan went inside to pay for another room. Rowan strode up to the desk and slammed the key down on the counter. "Need two rooms with two beds in each of them. An' this time you better get it right, cause you really won't like it if I have to come back here again."

"So," the taller of the two clerks said with a smirking grin on his face, "you didn't like the honeymoon suite? Thought the mirrors on the ceiling would be the perfect touch for you and your _friend_."

"Yeah, we like to call it the sexcapade suite," the shorter, greasy-haired man chimed in. "An' for an extra twenty bucks, we can even rent you a camcorder to capture those special moments."

"Just get me the room keys," Rowan ordered as he cast a glance over his shoulder, starting to worry that he had left Dean alone outside with so many people around.

"Okay, princess, don't get your panties in a bunch," the taller man said as he grabbed two keys off the rack, and handed them to Rowan. As he went to draw away from Rowan, the vampire's hand shot outward, gripped hold of him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground with the slightest of easy.

"Let me make this very clear to you and your dim-witted friend," Rowan hissed as he dragged the helpless man over the counter, and held him aloft within mere inches of his face. "If you ever think to call me princess again, it will be the last freakin' thing you ever do. I'll snap your scrawny neck as if it were nothing more than the weakest of twigs, an' then rip your head off your damn body. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"P-perfectly," the man stuttered, shaking uncontrollably as Rowan's grip tightened around his collar.

"It's called having respect for others," Rowan grinned, although it looked more like a menacing sneer. "Learn it or you might just find yourself dead one of these days." With that said, Rowan heaved the man into the wall, and watched as he crumpled to the ground in a heap. He pivoted to look at the man cowering behind the counter, and couldn't help but laugh when the younger man flinched and pushed back as close to the wall as possible. "Damn, you really should've probably camcorded this special moment we just shared so you could remember it always."

Without another word, Rowan strode out the door, only to stop short when he noticed that Dean was no where to be found. A quick look toward the parking lot told him that wherever Dean had went, he traveled on foot as the Chevelle was still parked where they had left it. Closing his eyes, he listened intently, trying to detect if the hearts of any of the patrons at the motel were beating abnormally fast with fear, but the only two that were doing that were coming from directly behind him, and he knew he was the cause of that.

"Damn it, Dean, where the hell did you go?" He held his head aloft and sniffed the air, trying to pick up his friend's scent, and caught the faint aroma of Dean's musky cologne, and another scent that was vaguely familiar, but didn't belong to Dean.

Dropping his duffel on the ground, Rowan followed the scent of Dean's cologne, traveling around the motel and into the woods surrounding the backside of the building. Mouth watering, his fangs descended from his gumline and he realized the other scent for what it was. Jax's blood. He wasn't exactly sure how or why he knew it was Jax's blood as he could recall nothing of the time they had spent together, but knew he was right nonetheless.

"Dean!" he shouted, a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing that Killeon was somehow involved in his friend's disappearance. Following the trail left behind by Dean's scent, Rowan traveled further into the woods, and the smell of Jax's blood grew stronger, nearly staggering him. "Dean! Where the hell are you?" he called out again, praying for all he was worth that Dean had been able to control his hunger, but all-the-while knowing that the lure of Jax's blood was just too strong to deny. "Damn it, Dean, why the hell did I leave you alone? Should've known Killeon would sense my presence here."

Another pang of fear ripped through Rowan's heart, knowing that he'd left Joshua and Bobby alone and unprotected. Killeon might not have detected Joshua's presence before, but now that he had vampire blood flowing through his veins there was no way in hell that Killeon would not know of him, and the threat he represented. But by that same token, Rowan also understood that it hadn't been Killeon who lured Dean away. He would have sense him the moment he was near, and that only left one other creature powerful enough to go undetected by Rowan. Lucifer. That thought had him racing back toward the motel at full speed.

Rowan rounded the corner of the motel just as Bobby was pulling back into the parking lot, and he rushed over to the truck. "Get back in your truck an' get the hell out of here. Now!" he ordered as Bobby exited his vehicle.

"What the hell's the matter with you, an' where's Dean?" Bobby hollered back, looking around for Dean and when he couldn't find him, he eyed Rowan suspiciously.

"Take Joshua an' go," Rowan roughly pushed Bobby back toward the cab of his truck. "He's not safe here. If they find him now then all that Dean's done to protect him will be for nothing."

"Who's after him, an' where the hell is Dean?" Bobby crossed his arms, clearly determined not to go anywhere until he had the answers he was looking for.

"Lucifer's after Joshua, an' I'm pretty much guessin' that he has Dean. So if we're done with the whole twenty questions thing, I'm strongly suggesting that you get back in that truck an' get the hell out of here, before I'm forced to make you go. An' believe me when I say, I can make you go." The warning was clearly evident in his voice and menacing expression, but to his credit, Bobby still refused to budge from his spot. "Seriously, don't force me to hurt you just to get you to leave. Cause Dean would probably be really pissed at me, an' eventually I might even start to regret it myself. Although I highly doubt it as you're being such a pain in my ass at the moment, but hey, ya never know . . . so please just go."

"If Lucifer's really got Dean, you need my help."

"Really?" Rowan chuckled as he gestured toward Bobby's duffel full of weapons. "An' which one of those toys do you really think is gonna be able to stop Lucifer? The Colt certainly won't. Already tried that one myself. Worked on him about as well as it worked on me."

"Sam has the Colt," Bobby muttered as he looked to his bag of weapons, and seemed to be reconsidering his position on the matter.

"Huh, too bad, it probably would've slowed Lucifer up for a moment or two."

"Thought the Colt could kill anything."

Rowan ripped back the collar of his shirt, popping the buttons on his flannel to expose his chest, and the scar left behind by the Colt. "If it could kill anything, I'd be freakin' dead right now," he snapped, at the end of his patience with the older hunter. He needed to find Dean, and standing there arguing with Bobby was only taking time away from him that he couldn't afford to lose. "Look, I understand you're a hunter, but this legend of the Colt isn't all it's cracked up to be. There are just some things out there that can't be killed no matter what. No magic gun, little hex or Latin mumbo-jumbo is gonna change that, an' you'll more than likely piss Lucifer off even more if you do try an' stop him. An' the only freakin' thing that I know of that might just have a chance of stopping him is sitting right there," he jabbed his finger in Joshua's direction, "so I'm beggin' you to take him, an' get the hell out of here as fast as you can before they find him."

"Where do I take him to?" Bobby finally conceded after a very long pause.

Rowan thought about the safest place he knew of, and his home in North Carolina came to mind. He quickly jotted down directions and handed them to Bobby. "It's set way back in the woods, an' has every possible charm and protection I could think of to guard it from evil." He hesitated a moment before handing Bobby the keys to his home, and then warned, "It probably won't keep Lucifer out for long, but you're safe from pretty much anything else."

"An' what about Dean?"

"Don't worry about Dean," Rowan flashed him a quick smile, "he's got the strongest protection possible as long as they don't trick him into taking it off."

"An' how do you plan on finding him?"

"Let me worry about that," Rowan said as he gestured toward the road. "Now get going before it's too late." For a moment, it looked as if Bobby was building speed to argue some more, but must have decided against it and got back inside his truck. "Take care of Joshua, Bobby, guard him as though your life depends upon it . . . because it does."

As Bobby drove away, Rowan reached down into his boot and pulled out a long knife he had concealed there for protection. Slowly he turned and entered his motel room and took a seat on the bed. Taking a deep calming breath, he prepared himself to do what was necessary to bring Killeon to him. The blade caught a glint of light as he sliced through the veins in his wrists, blood quickly spurting from his arteries. Not yet finished, he sliced through his jeans, cutting through the femoral artery on his right leg, followed quickly by the left. Blood pooled between his legs and dripped onto the floor as he quickly began to lose consciousness.

He knew it wouldn't kill him, and was counting on the fact the Killeon wouldn't be able to resist finding him in such a weakened condition. The only thing he was worried about was that when he'd done this once before, it had taken him several days to regain his full strength. The last time, however, the threat had come from Azazel, and one of Dean's forefathers had been there to help him. This time he knew he was on his own, and no matter how much he wanted to believe Dean could help him, he just wasn't sure he could afford to put that much faith in his new friend.

Rowan's last lucid thoughts were of Dean, his fears growing to overshadow the pain he was suffering from, and prayed that his young friend was strong enough to withstand whatever plans Lucifer and Killeon had in store for him. _Dean, whatever you do, don't take that damn amulet off. If you do, there's nothing I can do to prevent what's about to happen. _

As he slipped into unconsciousness, he caught the faint musky scent of Killeon close by, and grinned, knowing he hadn't been wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

so another chappy, have to say, i really loved writing this one, so i really hope everyone enjoys...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! Sorry about the wait, I just got my computer back from being rebuilt...bambers;)

_Chapter Eleven_

Rowan awoke to the sound of his own blood splattering against the cold cement floor. A surge of panic rushed through him, knowing that even if his blood needed time to regenerate, his wounds should have healed while he was unconscious. Blinking hard, he adjusted his eyes to the darkness of the dank underground dwelling, and shivered when he realized he was upside down with his arms pinned out to the sides, hawthorn stakes through his wrists. A sudden wave of nauseousness overwhelmed him, threatening to send him back to blissful unawareness, but Rowan fought it with every last ounce of strength he had left.

"You know," came Killeon's voice from somewhere off to the right in the expansive room, "I've spent a lot of time studying you over the last thousand years, Judas. Or would you prefer I call you Shade." He paused for a moment and moved to stand in front of where Rowan was nailed to the makeshift cross. Killeon tilted his head to the side, and smirked as Rowan shivered even more violently. "Cause I'm figuring you're saving the name Rowan for those who are foolish enough to think you've changed."

"I-I have changed." Rowan winced, a cry of pain escaping him, feeling as if the blood inside his veins was on fire, and he was burning alive from the inside out. "Wh-what the hell did you do to me?"

"Lucifer's blood is on those stakes," Killeon laughed, "so those wounds won't be closing up anytime too soon." Crouching, he rested his arms on his knees as he looked Rowan squarely in the eyes. "See, the way I figure it is, if you are crazy enough to practically bleed yourself dry to try and save Dean, then you have to care about him. An' if you care about him, then you just know damn well that I have to kill him."

"I'll s-see you dead first," Rowan hissed, tugging hard on the hawthorn stakes holding him firmly to the cross.

"I know you would, if you could that is." Fishing around in the pocket of his leather trench coat, Killeon pulled out a vial filled with a sludgy dark fluid. "Lucifer called it a demon's cocktail, don't know what's in it, don't really wanna know," he said as he held it closer to Rowan's face, and grinned when Rowan's shuddered.

"Killeon, don't do this," Rowan begged, all-the-while knowing it would do no good. Killeon was hellbent on getting revenge for what had happened to Genevieve, and no matter what Rowan said, the other vampire would never see that it wasn't his fault that she had died. "It's not gonna bring her back, no matter what you do to me."

"Maybe not, but it sure as hell will make me feel a lot better." He grabbed hold of Rowan's lower jaw, yanked open his mouth and forced him to drink the vile tasting liquid. "Does this all seem a little familiar, Shade?" he asked as he held Rowan's mouth tightly shut so he couldn't spit out any of the poison. "Cause as I clearly recall, the last time Lucifer gave it to you, you were in such excruciating pain . . . said it felt as if your brain was liquid fire. Really screwed your mind all to hell for the longest time." He bent over and whispered in Rowan's ear, "Lucifer wanted me to tell you that he'd warned you that if you tried to double-cross him, you would suffer, and he always keeps his word."

"You sonuva — " The words died on Rowan's lips as fiery pain ripped through his body, searing his mind, making any conscious thought impossible. His cries turned to ear-shattering screams as he began to hallucinate that he was burning alive. Molten lava seemed to drip from the ceilings, eating away at his flesh as it touched his skin, and he yanked all the harder on his restraints trying to escape the hellish torture. Black-eyed demons gathered around him, clawing and tearing away his skin from his bones, but as soon as it was stripped clean from his body, it reappeared, making the torture endless to endure.

"Now who's in control of who, Shade." Killeon chuckled as he glanced one more time at Rowan, and then turned on his heel and strode away.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Hungry, Dean?" Lucifer taunted as he paced back and forth in front of where Dean was tied to a chair. He glanced over to where Jax lay unconscious, chained to the bed, then looked back to Dean, and smiled when he noticed Dean hungrily lick his lips. "But of course you are. It's only natural for a vampire to want to feed, an' I betcha that Jax here is lookin' like dinner to ya."

"Not gonna hurt him, you sonuvabitch," Dean snarled as he tugged on the sturdy ropes binding him and felt them give slightly under the strain.

"Sure you will, I mean, you've already tasted his blood, an' know damn well how good it is. One hundred percent pure, can't get any better than that." Lucifer strode around behind Dean, and bent to whisper in his ear. "Didn't really tie 'em all that tight, Dean. If I didn't want you to get free eventually, believe me, you'd be stuck here until the second coming." He paused for a moment, gave a subtle gesture in Jax's direction, and chuckled. "Course, that might be closer than you think."

"What the hell are you talkin about?" Dean asked as he shifted in his seat to, turning his head to the side to glare at Lucifer.

"Demons walking the earth, floods, earthquakes, an' every other sort of natural disaster." He ticked off the list, his grin widening as if reveling in all the impending destruction. "Not to mention the wars, an' rapidly growing poverty. Hell, there's really only two things missing. A special little someone you've been protecting . . . an' the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Mix all those things together an' we could have ourselves one hell of a little party." He untied Dean's wrists, apparently feeling that the hunter wasn't even the slightest threat to him. "So how about it, Dean, wanna party?"

"Wake up, Jax, someone's here who's just dying to meet you." With a flick of his wrist, Lucifer unchained Jax from the bed, and the younger man opened his eyes. "Seems as if he's a little pissed that you took away his favorite little toy, an' he wants him back. Poor, pathetic Dean has never been very good about sharing his little Sammy with anyone, have you, Dean?"

Jax blinked hard several times, then focused his eyes on Dean, and momentarily caught Dean off guard as the younger man didn't seem surprised in the least that he was alive. The younger man's gaze then shifted to Lucifer, and his eyes lit up with pure unadulterated happiness. "Nick," he called out in a breathless whisper. "I-I thought ya were d-dead."

"Not dead, big brother," Lucifer said with a smile as he walked the short distance to the bed, and carefully helped Jax to his feet. "Been hiding since Uncle Jim was murdered. Found out you were here an' I came to get ya out." The moment Lucifer touched Jax, Jax leaned into him, and his eyes took on a faraway look.

"Jax," Dean called out as he shot to his feet, "that's not your brother."

"Course I am, Jax," Lucifer wrapped his arm protectively around Jax's waist as he turned and smirked at Dean. "Remember the promise I made to you . . . said I'd never leave ya behind . . . brothers till the very end, you remember that, right?"

"When ya were wrappin' my wrist up," Jax muttered as he touched his bloodied arm, and it instantly healed over, although he didn't even seem to notice. "I remember."

"Jax," Dean shouted as he took a cautionary step in Lucifer's direction. "I'm tellin' ya, that's not your freakin' brother."

"Told ya, Jax," Lucifer's voice turned to pleading, playing his part to perfection to fool Jax into believing he was really Nick. "Remember on the phone, the night Uncle Jim died . . . warned you about the Winchesters. They killed him . . . they murdered him in cold blood . . . saw the whole damn thing. Would've killed me too if I hadn't escaped."

The lights in the room began to flicker, the windows rattling loudly as the ground started to quake, floorboards splintering and cracking beneath Dean's feet. With one glance at the smug look on Lucifer's face, Dean knew instinctively that he wasn't the one causing the tremors. The demon was goading Jax into using whatever abilities he had, and if Dean didn't stop him now before he did something truly evil, he had a gut feeling that there would be no Joshua to go back to when it was all said and done.

"Look, Jax," Dean raised his hands in an attempt to show him that he meant him no harm, "I know you don't freakin' know me, but you do know Sam. An' you have to know he would never hurt Pastor Jim. A freakin' demon killed him . . . just like it killed your brother."

"You an' me, Jax," Lucifer's grip tightened around Jax's waist, pulling him closer. "We're the only family we've got . . . remember how Dad was tryin' ta kill you, an' I saved you?"

"Yeah." As Jax lowered his head, the room began to shake more violently, pictures falling off the walls to crash on the floor as the walls cracked under the strain. One of the outer walls began to crumbled, windows shattering, glass blowing inward, and Dean had to quickly dodged out of the way before he got cut to pieces by the sharp flying objects.

"An' you do know, Dean, Jax," Lucifer further taunted, "remember how we spent the summer at Uncle Jim's an' him an' his brother were there. They both acted as if you weren't even there. Too damn busy doing God only knows what ta even notice all the bruises on yer face. Didn't even ask once if you were okay . . . that's how much he or Sam cared what happened to ya."

"We were a little busy hunting demons like you, Lucifer, you freakin' sonuvabitch." All Dean's words just brought a further smile to the gloating demon's face, and he knew he needed to try a different tactic to make Jax see that Lucifer wasn't Nick. "Course, I should've known you would pick Nick to possess, Lucifer," Dean smirked as he played on the pride that Lucifer was well known for. "Cause as I recall, he was pretty damn pathetic, always whining, an' lookin' to Jax to protect him from everything. An' when it comes right down to it, you just don't have the balls to try an' possess someone like Jax."

"Nick ain't weaker than me," Jax was quick to come to his brother defense.

"Shut the hell up, Jax," Dean sneered, his fangs descending as his anger ignited. "If he isn't weaker than you, he should sure as hell be able to defend himself."

"Was never weaker than Jax," Lucifer's grin faltered slightly, his eyes glowing crimson for the briefest of moments. "He's the one who tried to kill himself."

"Sure you were . . . or I should say are." Dean took several steps in Lucifer's direction. "Hell, you're basically his bitch. You need him. An' that means he's more powerful than you, and that must really freakin' piss you off." The floorboards beneath Dean's feet burst wide apart, but luckily, he leapt to the side as the ground he'd been standing gave way. "Is that the best ya got? I mean, seriously, Jax made an earthquake, an' all you did was make a dent in the floor. Pretty damn weak if you ask me."

"I didn't do anything," Jax uttered in complete confusion, a dumbfounded expression crossing his features as he glanced around the room. He looked to Lucifer for understanding, but Lucifer was too busy glaring at Dean to even notice. "Nick, what's he talkin' about?"

To Dean, it was as if the younger man hadn't even realized what he'd done, or was capable of doing. If Jax didn't know, Dean wasn't about to put Sam's life at risk by letting Lucifer tell him. He needed to get Jax out of there fast, but with no weapons readily available to him, he knew he wouldn't even make it to the door before Lucifer struck him down.

With no other choice left available to him, Dean lunged forward, forcefully pushing Jax aside and knocking him to the ground as he attacked Lucifer. He hadn't even managed to get one blow in before he found himself being hurtled through the air to crash against the wall.

"Damn, Dean," Lucifer chuckled, "didn't think you were that stupid." He lifted his arm, and along with it, Dean rose into the air and was tossed into another wall, hitting hard, but he scarcely felt it. "Nice thing about being a vamp, it really heightens your tolerance for pain." Lucifer splayed out his fingers, and slowly lifted them again, and Dean was dragged upward against the wall toward the ceiling. "Remember when your mother died, Dean?" he taunted as Dean glared down at him from the vaulted ceiling. "As I recall, I had Azazel burn her alive from the ceiling, am I right? Did you watch her burn to death, Dean? Did she cry out to your father as she was dying?"

"Nick," Jax shouted, back on his feet and rushing toward Lucifer, "what the hell are you doin'?"

"Jax, get the hell outta here!" Dean hollered as he squirmed to break free of Lucifer's hold on him, to no avail. "That's not your freakin' brother, damn it!"

"Sorry, Jax," Lucifer turned his attention to his twin, "but you really should've listen to him," with that said, he splayed out his left hand, and Jax flew into the wall, and was held pinned there. "You're brother's been gone for years . . . why else do you think he would've let you go to jail for him?"

"Nick, let me go," Jax pleaded as he struggled to break free, "you're my brother . . . the only person I've ever really given a damn about."

"Huh," Lucifer chuckled mirthfully, "that's cause I never allowed you to love daddy dearest. Couldn't let you be happy . . . was tryin' to get you to kill yourself. Almost worked too, but Nick just had to stick his freakin' nose in where it didn't belong." His face contorted in rage as he clenched his fist, and Jax clutched at his chest, screaming out in agony. Blood spilled down Jax's shirt as he continued to writhe against the wall, Lucifer's grip tightening as he slowly sauntered toward his twin."An' then Nick had to go an' ruin it by killin' your dad. Couldn't very well use his body anymore with a bullet hole through his freakin heart. So what the hell was I supposed to do?" he shrugged. "Needed a body, an' Nick was more than willing to give me his."

"Jax, look at me," Dean commanded, knowing if he didn't do something, Lucifer would rip the younger man's heart out. "You gotta stop him . . . you're strong than him. Use whatever freakin' abilities you have, an' make him stop."

"D-don't know wh-what yer freakin' talkin' about," Jax cried out as his body arched forward, more blood seeping down his t-shirt.

"Don't feel so bad, Jax, you were never very quick on the uptake," Lucifer further taunted as he came to stand beside Jax, and gently patted him on the cheek. "But, hell, I didn't even know what you were capable of doing until recently. Although, I was pretty damn certain you needed to die." Glancing up to where Dean was still pinned to the ceiling, he added, "but how could I kill my older brother when he has all these special little gifts that I'd really love to use to my benefit?" He refocused his attention on Jax. "So, what do you say, Jax, you an' me, like always? Then we'd only need one more person to create are very own special little unholy trinity." Without looking back to Dean, he continued, "Care to take a stab in the dark as to who the third would be, Dean?"

"Not freakin' lettin' you get anywhere near Joshua," Dean hissed as he fought against the unseen force holding him firmly to the ceiling.

"Huh, well that really sucks," Lucifer chuckled as he swung to smirk at Dean. "Guess I'll just have to go with second best than . . . think little Sammy should work just as well though. An' you know the best thing about that idea?" He hesitated for a moment as if expecting Dean to respond, and then continued, "You can't go anywhere near him . . . totally off limits to you for about another five months. Certainly long enough for me to corrupt his mind completely."

"You go anywhere near him, I swear to God, I'll kill you," Dean breathed angrily, now fighting the force holding him to the ceiling with all his strength.

He was about to say more, when a subtle flash of light caught his eye, and he looked beyond Lucifer to where Jax was and saw that the younger man's eyes were glowing an intense shade of blue. Slack-jawed, Dean watched in utter amazement as Jax moved his hand over his heart, and instantaneously, the wound Lucifer had created healed over.

"Really? Gonna use the Colt," his grin widened, "oh, please do use the Colt, cause I'd just love to see the look on your face as I rip you apart after you try and fail."

"The Colt can kill anything," Dean snarled, knowing that it wasn't true, but was buying Jax the time he needed to escape from Lucifer's hold on him.

"Didn't work so well on Rowan, now did it?" Lucifer replied, completely unaware that Jax was slowly using his abilities to unleash himself from the wall. "Course what Vampfreakindracula forgot to mention to you was who gave him those instructions on how to make the Colt in the first place. Wanna guess who it was, Dean, or don't ya feel like playin' twenty guestions at the moment?"

"Why the hell would you tell him how to make a gun that can kill demons?" Dean asked, his curiosity aroused. "Seems kinda counterproductive if you ask me?"

"Demons can get a little greedy at times, an' I really had no qualms about killing off Azazel if he got it in his head that he was strong enough to actually take me on." He snapped his fingers and a blazing ring of fire appeared around Dean, and quickly edged toward where he was perched from the ceiling. "Course, it's a gun that can kill pretty much anything, an' so if ya wanna think really hard about it, who might I want to kill with it?" He smirked, nudging his head back toward where he thought Jax was, not realizing that the hunter was now standing directly behind him.

"Really flattering, but I hope ya didn't go ta all that trouble jus' for me." Jax tilted his head to the side, glanced up at Dean, and gave him a cocky grin. With a slight flick of Jax's wrist, Dean found himself falling to the ground, but just a split second before he crashed to the floor, Jax waved his hand, and Dean was standing upright.

"Lucifer," came Jax's softly spoken voice, and as Lucifer swung around, Jax splayed out his arm, and the demon was flung across the room to smash into the crumpling wall with such force that it toppled around him. With another subtle movement of Jax's wrist, broken pieces of the wall fell away from the fallen demon as he was lifted to his feet. "You killed my brother," he continued in a deadly calm voice, "not gonna let you hurt, Sam, you sonuvabitch." Jax closed his eyes and gently touched his heart, and although Dean couldn't see any damage being done to the demon, Lucifer screamed out in horrific pain. Slowly, he lifted his other hand, and Lucifer rose into the air, intense golden light enshrouding him, causing more screams of agony to rip from his lips.

The younger man backed up against the wall, his legs giving out as the sheer strength of his abilities began to drain him completely, and he crumpled to the ground. "D-Dean," Jax slurred as he swallowed hard, "c-can't hold him m-much longer . . . y-you have ta stop him wh-when I let go . . . ."

Dean gave a nod of understanding and rushed forward. The moment Jax released his hold on Lucifer, Dean lunged forward, and not knowing what else to do to stop Lucifer, he sunk his fangs into the side of the demon's throat, ripping away at Lucifer's neck. In his weakened state, Lucifer leaned heavily into him as Dean gorged himself on the demon's blood.

"Dean, stop," Jax yelled out in warning, "you're gonna kill yerself, an' it'll hardly hurt him at all." Back on his feet, Jax trudged to where Dean was and tried to yank him away from Lucifer, but couldn't tear the two apart. "Damn it, Dean, let go."

Even as Dean tried to do as Jax had said, he clamped down even tighter around the thick veins in Lucifer's neck, blood squirting down the back of his throat. Scornful laughter rang in his ears, and he knew without a doubt that Lucifer was forcing him to continue to drink his blood. His stomach began to churn violently, vision blurring as he swallowed more and more of the thick rancid tasting liquid.

Jax must have realized Dean was in trouble, and with his last stores of strength, he placed his hand on Lucifer's head. Instantly, his fingers started to gleam a brilliant shade of gold, the color quickly spreading outward down his hand. "Let him go now," he hissed through clenched teeth, and Lucifer released his hold on Dean and dropped to his knees as Jax collapsed against Dean.

For several seconds, Dean stood unmoving, the room weaving in and out of focus as Lucifer's blood rushed though his body. Darkness began to edge in around him, but with every ounce of sheer willpower he possessed, Dean diverted his attention to Jax, and saw that the younger man was barely conscious. Fighting back the growing pain inside him, Dean looped his arm around Jax's waist, and slowly made his way toward the door.

"Come on, Jax, gotta stay with me," he gently coaxed, "gonna get you outta here, an' back to Rowan. He'll know how to fix this."

"Ya kn-know," Jax glance at Dean through partially closed eyes, a faint grin spreading across his features, "wh-when I said st-stop him . . . didn't mean ta bite him . . . thinkin' that w-wasn't such a good plan."

"Th-thinkin' you're p-prob — " Wincing at the sharp stabbing pain in his chest, Dean lost his footing and crashed to the floor with Jax following close behind. As he quickly began to lose consciousness, Dean glanced up to see Killeon stalking toward him and Jax, but before he could manage to get himself back upright, he slipped into unwelcomed darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

so another chappy, hope everyone enjoys...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Twelve_

Dean blinked hard against the pain burning inside his head. His vision blurred in and out of focus as he peered around the darkened underground dwelling where he was being held a prisoner. With his newfound heightened vampire senses, he detected the sound of two heartbeats close by. He wasn't exactly sure how or why he knew it, but he was certain that one of the two belonged to Rowan.

As if it were his own, Dean felt Rowan's pain as it ravaged the vampire's body, and a cry burst from his lips as searing pain shot through his temples and traveled down the length of his spine. At nearly the same time, and through the haze of pain, he vaguely heard Rowan groan as if in agony.

"Rowan," Dean weakly called out to his friend. "You okay?"

After several very long moments, Rowan finally muttered, "B-been better . . . h-how about you?"

"Bit Lucifer," Dean reluctantly admitted, knowing Rowan was probably going to rip him a new one for doing such a stupid thing.

"Huh," the vampire half-chuckled, half-groaned, "s-so tell me how that worked for ya?"

"Probably wasn't the smartest thing I could've done."

"Ya think?"

"Well, it kinda worked . . . jus' didn't count on the passing out cold part." Dean quirked a brow as he peered into the darkness and could just make out the faint outline of his friend pinned upside down to a cross. "An' how'd you end up here?"

"I . . . ummm . . .well, I . . . ." Rowan stumbled over his words, hesitating for the longest time before he forced out the words, "pretty much bled myself dry so I could rescue you. An' I swear if I h-hear ya laughin', I will so kick your ass when we get outta here."

"Huh," Dean smirked, mimicking Rowan's previous taunt, "so how'd that work for ya?"

"Well, s-seein' as how you're probably never gonna let me live this one down, I'm thinkin' it didn't work as well as expected." Rowan moaned again, and now Dean could distinctly hear the sounds of the vampire's blood splattering to the ground.

Dean fell silent for a moment as the magnitude of what Rowan had done fully struck him. Although he had risked his own life countless times to save other people, no one outside his own family and Bobby had ever done the same for him. "How come you're still bleeding," he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"K-Killeon made s-sure my wounds wouldn't close up." Rowan coughed hard, his breath becoming more ragged as the minutes passed. "L-look, Dean," he mumbled awkwardly, "let's not make this a bigger d-deal than it is . . . wasn't like I w-was riskin' my life to save ya. Y-you have the amulet . . . I - I need it s-so I can die . . . that's all this is . . . n-nothin' more."

Dean listened to all that Rowan had to say, but didn't buy it for a second. "Don't try an' bullshit me, Rowan." He tugged on the chains holding him securely to the wall, using all his strength to try and break free, and felt them give slightly. "Offered to give you the amulet twice now, once at the hospital and then at the church, an' both times you refused. So you can pretend like this means nothin', but I'm not that stupid."

Rowan cleared his throat, and Dean knew he was about to argue the point, but the sound of someone else moaning from the far corner of the room, caught both of their attention.

"Dean," Jax called out from the shadows, "what happened? Where are we?"

"Rowan," Dean looked to the vampire, "got any idea where we are?"

"Think w-we're on my property."

"You're property?" Dean repeated, incredulously. "Just how many places do you freakin' own?"

"Not exactly sure," Rowan chuckled, then coughed even harder, "are ya t-talkin' about jus' here in America?"

"Just how rich are you?" Dean asked, forgetting for a moment that they should be trying to escape before Killeon or Lucifer came back to finish them all off.

"Let's jus' say that I make the people on those richest people in the world lists look . . . well, I make 'em look like you."

"Huh, that rich."

"Been alive over two thousand years, Dean, an' I like to th-think I'm pretty smart with money . . . so yeah, that rich."

"Ummm . . . ." Jax interjected, "man chained ta the wall here. An' at the moment, I'm thinkin' that I couldn't care less if ya owned the Grand freakin' Canyon."

"You don't do you," Dean asked, thinking how he had never managed to make it to the Grand Canyon before his deal came due.

"Why the hell w-would I wanna own that, Dean?"

"Guhhhh . . . can we focus here for jus' a sec?" Jax let out an aggravated sigh. "Maybe this whole bein' chained up in a dark place thing is nothin' for the two of ya, but this is all kinda new ta me, an' I would kinda like ta get outta here before ya both start pickin' out China patterns."

"Any ideas, Rowan?" Dean asked, now focused once more on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

"I . . . I — " A sudden scream of pain ripped from Rowan's lips, and at nearly the same time explosive pain tore through Dean's body causing him to cry out as well.

"Awww . . . what the hell," Jax grumbled, "you're both freakin' hurt?"

"B-bit Lucifer . . . r-remember?" Dean's knees buckled and if it wasn't for the chains holding him upright, he would have collapsed.

"Ahhh . . . yeah, that was a really stupid thing ta do."

"Already b-been through this, can we move on?"

"Then I guess it's up ta me ta rescue us," Jax said determinedly, then laughed heartily. "Sam's never gonna believe this when I tell him."

"N-no . . . you can't tell him," both Dean and Rowan said simultaneously.

"He can't know I'm alive," Dean added, not knowing quite how to explain his deal to Jax. "Not yet anyway."

"You want me ta lie ta yer brother?"

Dean couldn't help but wince at the clear note of disgust in Jax's tone. He really hadn't expected any less from Sam's friend after witnessing how fiercely Jax had protected Sam when he had been beaten up at the Thunderback Tavern. Sam hadn't even tried to defend himself as three men had taken turns kicking the crap out of him, and Dean had no doubt his brother would have probably been dead right now if it hadn't been for Jax.

"Not exactly a lie, jus' don't tell him about me bein' alive yet."

"An' what part of that is not exactly a lie?" A sudden flash of pure golden light and intense wind came from Jax's direction, and then rapidly faded, leaving them once more in darkness. The sound of footsteps against the cement floor followed the burst of light, and within a matter of moments, Jax was standing directly in front of Dean. "I should jus' leave yer sorry asses here ta find yer own way out. Then I can pretend like I never saw ya, an' Sam will never have ta know what an ass his brother really is."

"That sounds like a brilliant idea to me," came a voice from somewhere behind Dean, and he instantly recognized it as Killeon's. "Except for the fact that I really can't let you leave either . . . workin' for the Big Bad, don't ya know. An' well, he'd get real pissed if I let ya go."

Killeon flipped on a light switch, and strode confidently into the underground dwelling, stalking to where Rowan was pinned to the cross. Grabbing a fistful of Rowan's thick black hair, Killeon yanked him forward as he glanced back at Jax. "Besides, why would you wanna help the man responsible for killing off all your family members?"

Jax looked around Killeon, and his gaze locked on Rowan, and Dean couldn't help but notice how his body started to tremble with scarcely controlled rage. As he shook, the ground below their feet began to splinter and crack.

"W-wasn't my fault, Jax," Rowan tried to reason, but Killeon slammed his fist into the vampire's face, stopping him from any further argument.

"I was there remember, Rowan," Killeon taunted as his grip tightened around Rowan's hair, "You said you would protect him, then just walked away an' they all died. All of them . . . including his little baby brother, Nick."

"I remember," Jax muttered in a barely audible whisper that Dean was certain that only he had heard.

"Wasn't his fault," Dean quickly defended his friend's actions, fearing what Jax was capable of doing to the vampire. "He tried to — "

"D-don't, Dean," Rowan pleaded, eyes beseeching Dean not to try and defend him, "it was m-my fault."

"Not gonna let you take the blame for this," Dean argued, yanking hard against the restraints holding him, and they broke free from the wall, scattering bits and pieces of stone to the floor. "It wasn't your freakin' fault that Jax didn't wash away the mark on his hand, completing the protection spell. You couldn't have guessed that he would wanna keep it."

Dean grabbed hold of Jax and swung the younger man to face him. Eyes as black as pitch looked back into his own, and for the briefest of moments, Dean was held dumbstruck as Jax opened his mouth and long jagged fangs descended from his gums.

"Let go of me, Dean," Jax hissed through clenched teeth, and Dean shook his head, not about to let him free to hurt Rowan. Jax glanced down at Dean's hand, and against his own will, his fingers uncurled from around Jax's arm. Jax's black eyes shifted to a fiery crimson as he gripped hold of Dean's shirt and hefted him off the ground as if he weighed next to nothing. "Don't wanna hurt ya, but don't think for a moment that I won't if ya interfere." Pushing him hard against the wall, Jax released his hold on Dean, and he remained suspended in midair.

Jax turned his back on Dean, and strode to where Rowan was, raising his hands as he walked. With a slight movement of Jax's wrist, Rowan's right hand was ripped free from the stake pinning him to the cross, followed quickly by his left. Screams tore from Rowan's lips as deep slashing wounds appeared across his chest and trailed down his stomach as blood spurted from the gashes.

"D-Dean," Rowan cried out, begging him for help, but as hard as Dean tried, he couldn't move a muscle.

"Jax!" Dean shouted, trying to divert the younger man's attention away from Rowan. "Damn it, let him go! Lucifer did this to your family, not Rowan. What happened to them wasn't his fault."

"My mother killed herself cause of you," Jax continued on as if he hadn't heard Dean. With another slight flick of his wrist, several more deep gouging wounds appeared on Rowan's muscular legs, his screams growing in intensity as his flesh was ripped apart.

"Jax, you can't kill him." Killeon laid a hand on the hunter's shoulder as he glanced in Rowan's direction, and Jax hesitated."He can't die, but I know just how you can hurt him as much as he hurt you and your family." He smirked as he briefly looked over his shoulder at Dean, and then refocused his attention on Rowan. "Do what he did to you . . . take away all the things he cares about most in the world. Start with Dean an' then take away his only child from him. An eye for an eye, an' all that bullshit."

Shocked by what Killeon had just revealed about Rowan, Dean narrowed his gaze on his friend, and could feel the abject fear rolling off the vampire as if it was his own. Rowan's ravaged body trembled uncontrollably, but Dean was certain it had nothing to do with all that he had just suffered.

"K-Killeon . . . pl-please," Rowan begged, his voice hitching in his throat as tears trailed a path down his forehead to dampen his hair. "I'm beggin' ya . . . L-leave Collin outta th-this . . . h-he doesn't even know he's m-my son . . . you w-want me ta s-suffer, then God, jus' make m-me suffer . . . b-but leave Dean an' m-my son alone."

"See, Jax," Killeon chuckled, "you want revenge for what happened to your family, take his from him." He swung to look at Dean, and nudged his head in his direction. "Starting with Dean." Slowly, Jax pivoted on his heel to glare at Dean, and Dean could tell by the look in his eyes that he was going to do exactly as Killeon had asked. "Make him suffer like your mother suffered when she shot herself in the head, Jax, an' then make Collin suffer even more."


	13. Chapter 13

only a few more chappies to go on this one...hope everyone enjoys...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Thirteen_

"Where did I go when I died?" Sam turned questioning eyes to both Raphael and Gabriel, and noticed how neither of them would look him directly in the eye. "Was I in Hell?"

"Not exactly," Gabriel answered after a very long pause, "it's complicated, an' we really don't have time to get into the details right now. Jax is in trouble an' needs your help."

"I'm not goin' anywhere until you tell me what the hell Lucifer meant." Sam crossed his arms over his chest, stubbornly refusing to budge from his spot until he got some answers.

"Does it really matter where you went, Sam," Raphael uttered in a soft lulling tone, and for the briefest of moments, Sam almost relented. "What matters is that you're alive now, and you have a job to do, and believe me when I say that this is one job you can't afford to mess up."

"Said I wasn't going anywhere until you told me what I wanted to know, an' I meant it," Sam said, although he was more than just a little curious as to what job Raphael was referring to.

Gabriel heaved an irritated sigh as he took a seat at the booth Raphael and Sam were sitting at, resting his arms on the table. "You've been brought up to believe there are only hunters out there fighting against evil, an' that's understandable, but far from the truth."

The archangel fell silent, and Raphael took up where he left off. "Over the past six years, a new breed of hunter has come into existence. They call themselves the Brethren. They are stronger, faster and far more deadly than the average hunter."

"What does this have to do with me?" Sam asked, not understanding how this related to what had happened to him when he had died.

"When you died, your spirit was released from your body, and it went to neither Heaven or Hell, but remained earthbound."

"Like a ghost?" Sam muttered, now more confused than ever.

"No, like a demon." Gabriel eyed Sam for a moment before he continued onward, "but a demon needs to possess a body to remain powerful, an' so you sought out a body."

"Her name is Becca Sinclair," Raphael added, before Sam could ask who's body he had possessed while he was dead. "And from the time you died until the time Dean made the deal, you inhabited her, mind, body and soul."

"Why would I do that? I don't even know who she is."

"Becca is the leader of the Brethren. An' you see for as strong as Becca is, she has two weaknesses." Raphael hesitated for a moment and drew in a deep breath. "The first one is her heart. When she was younger she had a serious heart condition and had to have a heart transplant. When you possessed her, you weakened her heart although she didn't know it at the time."

"She knows it now," Gabriel interjected into the conversation as Raphael fell silent once again. "Her second weakness was the love she felt for a young man who had suffered cruelly at the hand of his own father. You twisted that pure unselfish love, an' now because of it, the Brethren is crumbling. We can't allow that to happen."

Sam mulled over what both Archangels said, but still couldn't understand why Lucifer would find what they had told him as something to gloat about. "Why would Lucifer care so much about this girl Becca or the Brethren?"

"When you went and tried to make a deal with the Crossroad's Demon after Dean died, did she make you an offer?" Raphael asked as he turned in his seat to look at Sam. "Did she say she would bring Dean back from Hell if you gave her gave her something in return?" he asked, although Sam was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

"She told me if I brought her this special child, she would bring Dean back. But no matter how much I want Dean back, I just couldn't bring myself to trade his life for the life of an innocent little kid."

That would've been a really stupid deal on your part, Sam," Gabriel uttered, "an' thank God, you were smart enough to refuse."

"See," Raphael once more picked up where Gabriel left off, "this child is protected by Guardians." When Sam quirked a brow in confusion, Raphael added, "I guess you could almost say that they are kind of like modern day Apostles. Each Guardian has watched over the child for a term of six months, no more no less from the day he was born. Becca was the very first Guardian."

Sam's mind wandered back to the little boy he had met at the motel when he had been looking for Dean. A small smile crept onto his face when he realized that Joshua had to be about six years old. If the Brethren came into existence six years ago, and every six months a new Guardian took over for the last one, the child had to be around six years old now. He then recalled the peculiar thing that Joshua had called out to him just before shutting the motel room door. Joshua had said only five more months, and at the time that hadn't made any sense at all to him, but now as he listened to both Archangels speaking, he started to understand.

Dean had supposedly been dead for a month at the time when Sam met Joshua, and five more months added to it, would be just the amount of time each Guardian served as his protector. Sam's grin widened as he realized that the little boy had meant that in five months his brother would come back to him.

"Dean's not dead, is he?" Sam asked, although he was pretty certain that he knew the answer to his own question, but wanted to hear them admit it. "He's guarding Joshua, isn't he?"

Both angels hesitated just long enough that Sam knew without a doubt that he was right, but then Gabriel said, "Your brother died, Sam. The hell hounds came for him, and tore him apart before they carried him off to Hell."

All Sam's hopes came crashing down around him at that one cruel statement, and if he had been sitting, he would have crumbled to the floor. Lightly tracing his fingers over the raised scar that ran vertical down his wrist, tears welled in his eyes as he tried to accept what Gabriel had said as the truth, but in his heart he refused to believe he was wrong. Dean had to be alive, it was as simple as that.

"I don't believe you." Sam pushed over in his seat, forcing Raphael to stand so he could get up. "He's alive, an' I'm gonna find him." He determinedly strode away from them. As he headed for the entrance of the diner, he called back over his shoulder, "An' I don't need your help to do that."

"Sam," Raphael called out to him, stopping Sam in his tracks, "I'm not saying that he's alive, but if he was, there has to be a reason why he hasn't come looking for you. Are you really willing to accept the consequences of your actions just to prove you're right?"

For the longest time, Sam stood stock still as he mulled over what Raphael had just said, and then turned on his heel, and headed back to where Gabriel and Raphael were standing. With head hung low, he muttered, "Jus' wanna know that he's alive . . . please, I can wait five more months to see him if I know that he's alright. I just need to know."

Gabriel looked to Raphael, and Raphael heaved a weary sigh as he shrugged his shoulders. He then focused his attention on Sam, and warned, "If you see your brother, talk to him, or even so much as write to him within the next five months, he dies and goes straight to Hell. Do you understand this? It's the terms Dean agreed upon to save his soul. However, since you did not make the same deal, we are not actually bound to keep this information from you."

Sam's breath caught in his throat, his heart beating painfully hard inside his chest as tears sprung to his eyes. "He's alive," he said in a breathless rush as he brushed away the tears slipping down his cheeks. "He's really alive?" he asked once more, needing to hear them say it again.

"Yes, he's alive," Raphael uttered, but didn't look at all pleased to give Sam the information he so desperately wanted to hear. "But I'm truly afraid that by knowing this, you will make the wrong decisions, and I just can not allow that to happen."

"What's that supposed — " Before Sam had the chance to finish his sentence, Raphael's hand shot out and gripped hold of his forehead, and he began to tremble as intense pain shot through his head and traveled down the length of his body.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Raphael's eyes narrowed as he frowned at Sam, "but for the greater good, sometimes we must make sacrifices. And I'm afraid that means you need to go on believing your brother is dead until he has finished protecting Joshua."

"Pl-please, don't," Sam begged as he fell to his knees before both angels. He quickly scanned the diner, praying that someone would come to his rescue, but no one even seemed to notice what the angel was doing to him. "I pr-promise I won't try an' see him . . . I s-swear it."

Gabriel knelt beside Sam, and took hold of his hand. "There is one thing I need you to remember, Sam," he leaned closer and whispered, "Not all who have fallen from grace are lost. The blood that flows through your veins may have belonged to a demon, but even Azazel was an angel at one time. So only you can determine if it is truly demon's blood or angel's blood that flows through your veins."

Raphael now knelt down beside him as well, his free hand lightly ghosting Sam's shoulder. "You have one job to do, and that is to protect Jax as he becomes what he was meant to be. It is time for you to begin to learn to use your abilities so you can help him control his."

"Jus' l-let me remember tha' Dean's alive . . . an' I sw-swear I'll do whatever you want."

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Raphael pulled Sam closer into an embrace, his fingers pressing firmly into Sam's back. "But if you remembered, Lucifer would use it against you. He would make it impossible for you to stay away from Dean."

Sam's eyes fluttered open and closed as he began to tremble violently in Raphael's arms. A cry burst from his quivering lips as his mind felt as if it were being ripped apart. Stark searing pain gathered behind his eyes and spread outward, making it impossible to hold onto a single thought other than wanting the intense pain to end. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Sam gripped hold of Raphael who tightened his hold on him in response. Endlessly, it seem seemed to go for, and then just as suddenly as the pain had come on, it abruptly disappeared.

At the feel of someone lightly tapping him against the shoulder, Sam slowly opened his eyelids, blinking hard against the sudden bright intense light that burned at his eyes.

"Sir," came a concerned female voice, and Sam tilted his head to look up at a young blond-haired woman who was holding a serving tray in her hand. "Are you okay?"

Confused, Sam peered around the diner, looking for Jax, but couldn't find him anywhere. Rubbing his throbbing temples, Sam narrowed his eyes and scanned all the people sitting at tables and booths again, feeling as if he was forgetting something very important. "Do you know if I came in here with anyone?"

The waitress shook her head, now looking even more concerned. "No, I waited on you, an' you were alone."

"The whole time?" Sam asked, almost certain that hadn't come into the diner alone.

"Yeah, you came in here about an hour ago, an' have been alone the whole time." Setting her tray down on at an empty table, she knelt beside Sam. "You don't look so good. Do you want me to call someone for you?"

Sam opened his mouth to say Dean, but then his heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he remembered that his brother was dead. "No," he slowly rose to his feet, gripping a hold of the back of the cushioned booth to steady himself, "I'm okay."

"You're sure?" She raised a delicate brow.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Taking one last look around, Sam turned to leave.


	14. Chapter 14

only like three more chappies to go on this one...hope everyone enjoys...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Fourteen_

Jax stood staring at Dean in stony silence. His fingers lightly trailed a path across Dean's jawline then traveled further down to his neck, coming to rest at the hollow of his throat. Cupping his hand around Dean's amulet, he yanked it off his neck, and pocketed it. After several long moments, his hand slid to Dean's heart, and he pressed firmly against it as Dean squirmed beneath his fingertips.

With black eyes gleaming in the dimness of the underground room, Jax eyed Dean for another moment before looking back at Rowan. "Sam told me that the only way to kill a vampire for certain is to cut off its head." As his gaze remained locked on Rowan, his hand moved back up to Dean's throat, fingers circling and tightening around the base of his neck. "Guess he knows what he's talkin' about, he is a hunter after all."

"D-don't do it," Rowan breathed hard as his gaze shifted to Dean. "He d-didn't do anythin' to you. You wanna hurt me, jus' go ahead an' hurt m-me, jus' leave him outta it."

"I know I can hurt you," Jax declared in a menacingly calm tone of voice. With a slight nod of his head, Rowan was torn free from the cross that he was still pinned to, and landed on the ground in a heap. "But I'm not so certain that you know just how much I can hurt you."

"Don't really freakin' care if ya can kick my ass. I'm n-not gonna let ya h-hurt him." Rowan slowly pushed himself up onto his haunches, and then with an extreme effort he made his way to his feet. Gripping a hold of the cross for support, he steadied himself enough to take a few steps forward. "Cause no matter h-how badly ya hurt me . . . I'll still get back on my feet an' come back for more."

Jax looked to Killeon, and Dean could sense the uncertainty in the younger hunter. Killeon must have sense it as well, and was quick to goad Jax into action.

"Go ahead, Jax, see how much he can take before he begs you to kill Dean instead. He's a coward an' traitor by heart, so it shouldn't take too long."

That was all Jax needed to hear to do just as Killeon had asked. With a slight tilt of his head, Rowan was thrown across the room to hit hard against the cement wall. Not giving Rowan a chance to recover, Jax waved his hand and Rowan was hurtle in the opposite direction, slamming up against the opposing wall.

Even more slowly than before, Rowan braced his hands against the wall, and pulled himself to his feet. "Barely felt that," he chuckled weakly, and Dean noticed how much of an effort it took for him to keep himself upright. "Surely you can d-do better th-than that."

Although Dean knew his friend couldn't die, he was worried how much Rowan's body could take before it finally gave out. Rowan staggered in his steps as he pushed himself forward, and then hesitated as if readying himself for even more abuse.

"Rowan, stop this, you can't win," Dean shouted as he struggled to break free of Jax's hold on him. "He's gonna tear you a freakin' part."

"N-naww . . . I'm g-good, Dean," Rowan slurred as he faltered in his steps and nearly stumbled to the ground. "Jus' gettin' m-my second w-wind now." He cast Dean a cocky grin, and then groaned in pain as he was thrown backward into the wall again. Rolling over onto his stomach, Rowan pressed his hands into the ground, and straining his muscles he pushed himself up into a crouching position. Unsteady on his trembling haunches, he fell backward against the wall, but undeterred he ever-so-slowly made his way to his feet once more.

Seeing that Rowan wasn't about to give up so easily, Killeon cruelly taunted, "Maybe you should offer him thirty piece of silver, Jax, that's how much his freakin' soul was worth." Hearing this, the look of sheer determination slid from Rowan's features, and he lowered his head in utter defeated shame. "See, just like I said . . . a coward and a traitorous sonuvabitch."

"Rowan," Dean hollered out to his friend, not about to let him give up, "it's not freakin' true." At the sound of Dean's voice, Rowan's head snapped back up, and their eyes locked as an understanding passed between them. "Told you before that I trusted you, an' I meant that. Don't let that sonuvabitch do this to ya."

"You j-jus' like w-watchin' me get my ass kicked," Rowan let out a weak laugh, his resolve once again restored.

"Well, payback for the earring thing, ya know." Dean chuckled, knowing the vampire needed him to keep talking to remain focused.

"S-said it was a good look on ya," Rowan muttered as he trudged forward toward Jax again.

"Yeah, but I clearly said nothing permanent," Dean shot back, noticing how his friend was building strength just by hearing his voice, and so further added, "an' so when Jax is through with ya, I may just have to kick your ass myself."

"Huh," Rowan smirked and then sucked in a breath of air as his grin faltered and turned to a grimace, "never th-thought you were the k-kind of guy to kick a man wh-when he was down."

"Must be the vampire blood."

"Hmm . . . ya could be right." Rowan awkwardly limped the rest of the way to where Jax was standing, and pulled himself to his full height to face him. "Is that the best ya got," he taunted, "cause I can take a helluva lot more."

"My family died cause ya said you would protect us, an' ya didn't," Jax breathed, his anger building as a surge of strong wind swept into the room, chilling the already cool air. "I trusted you . . . thought ya were a hero."

"Never said I was a hero, Jax," Rowan muttered, swaying slightly under Jax's scrutinizing glare. "An' I didn't take your family from you . . . Lucifer did." Gripping hold of Jax's shoulder to steady himself before he fell flat on his face, Rowan leaned in and added, "An' I know it sucks . . . an' h-hurts like hell . . . b-but that's jus' how things are." He swallowed hard and then drew in a deep breath before further adding, "But do you care so little about S-Sam that you would kill the only family he has left?"

The strong gusting wind died back as Jax looked long and hard into Rowan's eyes. He then glanced back to Dean, and the anger slid from his features, his eyes returning to a shade of bluish-green as he lowered his head.

"I'd never hurt Sam," Jax muttered, and with that said, he released his hold on Dean. Dean slid down the wall, his knees nearly buckling as his feet touched the ground. "He's the closest thing ta family I got left."

"Well," Killeon interjected as he grabbed hold of Dean, roughly swung him around and brought a knife up to his neck, "Guess I'll just have to do it myself then."


	15. Chapter 15

only two more chappies to go on this one...hope everyone enjoys...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Fifteen_

Sam searched everywhere for Jax, and some places he'd even checked twice, but couldn't find the younger hunter anywhere. His gut told him that Jax was in serious trouble, yet all his research into a vampire nest in Las Vegas had turned up nothing.

Frustrated and with no other leads to go on, he yanked his cell phone from his pocket, and jabbed the button to call Bobby. When Bobby finally answered, Sam could've almost sworn he heard the sounds of a little child chattering away in the background. Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and double-checked to make sure he'd called the right number, and noticing Bobby's name on the screen, he put the phone back to his ear.

"Bobby?" There was a question in Sam's tone as he heard the same little boy talking again, and if Bobby hadn't chosen to answer just then, Sam was ready to hang up thinking the line must have somehow gotten crossed.

"Yeah, Sam, what do ya want?" Bobby snapped, sounding as if he was at the end of his patience. "Kinda busy here, is this important?"

Again, Sam was forced to pull the phone away from his ear and stare at it. Returning the phone to his ear, he asked, "Have you heard anything from Jax? He left a couple of days ago, an' I haven't heard a word from him since."

"Nope, haven't heard from him," Bobby was quick to reply, and it seemed to Sam as if he was in a hurry to get off the phone.

"Could really use your help here," Sam tried again, wanting nothing more than to see a familiar face around. "Think he might've gotten tangled up with that nest of vamps you told me about."

"Can't get away right now," Bobby replied, and then if he wasn't mistaken, Sam thought he heard the muffled sound of Bobby scolding someone. "Got my own little vamp problem to deal with at the moment."

"Can't it wait, Bobby, I really need your help. Got in a fight with Jax, an' if anything happens to him . . . ." Sam's voiced trailed off, not wanting to think that because of him, Jax might be dead.

"Sorry, Sam . . . I can't really go into it at the moment, but I have to stay here."

"Would ya have come if it was Dean askin' ya?" Sam blurted out in anger, and instantly regretted it.

"It's not like that, Sam," Bobby gruffly replied. "I know ya don't understand, but what I'm doin' is very important, an' I jus' can't walk away from it now."

"You do what ya gotta do." Sam snapped his phone shut, hanging up on the older hunter who he had thought he could always count on.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Dean stood motionless as cold steel pressed hard against his throat, making it extremely difficult for him to draw in a breath. Killeon gripped a hold of Dean by the hair, and yanked his head backward as Rowan took a step toward them.

"Really don't think you wanna be doing that, Rowan," Killeon jeered as he pressed himself closer to Dean. "You know what I'm capable of doing."

"True, but even on your best damn day, y-you could never beat me." Rowan took another unsteady step in Killeon's direction.

"Huh, what are ya gonna do, bleed all over me? Hell, go ahead, I'm kinda hungry an' could really go for a snack." Killeon smirked as Rowan lost his footing and if he hadn't gripped hold of Jax's arm, he would have fallen.

"Get the hell off me." Jax shrugged free of Rowan's hold on him, and the vampire teetered precariously for several seconds before he once again regained his footing.

"G-gonna rip your fr-freakin' head off," Rowan slurred as he staggered forward to attack Killeon, but with knees buckling he dropped to the ground.

"That's gonna be kinda hard to do when you're on your knees." Killeon chuckled as he pressed the knife even further into Dean's flesh, lightly cutting through his skin.

"Jus' restin' for a s-second." Rowan cast a cocksure grin in Dean's direction as he once again pushed himself into a standing position. A fine sheen of sweat glistened from Rowan's battered body, dampening his thick black hair and mingling with the blood dripping from his muscular chest. Now even more unsteady on his feet, he swayed back and forth, and rather reluctantly Jax reached out to brace him and keep him from falling once more.

"God, this is so damn entertaining." Killeon threw back his head and laughed, the sound of it echoing through the expanse. "You remind me of a Jack-in-the-box, you're freakin' up an' down, up an' down. Maybe ya should jus' stay down next time."

"It'll never happen." Rowan breathed hard, vision blurring as he shrugged free of Jax's grasp on him, and slogged closer to Dean. Falling forward, he reached out just in time to grasp hold of Killeon's hand before he could slice any further into Dean's neck.

Freed from Killeon's hold on him, Dean brought his elbow forward and then slammed it back into Killeon's stomach with all his might, and felt a rush of air at the back of his neck just before Killeon stumbled backward. Rowan weakly pushed Dean out of the way, and half-lunged half-fell on top of Killeon.

Drawing back a fist, Rowan smashed it into Killeon's face. Rowan raised his arm to strike again, but Killeon grabbed hold of his hand and jerked hard, dislodging him. Killeon was quick to leap on top of Rowan, and began pounding his fists into Rowan's face, his head snapping back and forth with the force of each blow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw Dean take several steps forward to help him, and called out to him. "N-no . . . I got this . . . wanna do th-this on my own."

Dean held his ground, watching as his friend was mercilessly pummeled by Killeon, but every time he tried to jump in and help, Rowan would weakly mutter for him to stay back.

"Aren't ya gonna help him," Jax asked as he nudged his head toward the two combatants. "He's really gettin' his ass kicked." Rowan's head snapped viciously to the side, blood splattering to the ground from his mouth and nose. Jax winced as Killeon drew back again and slammed a fist into Rowan's jaw. "Damn, he's gonna feel that one in the morning."

"Damn it, Rowan, you're gettin' the vamp smacked out of ya . . . let me freakin' help!" Dean shouted as he edged around the two fighters.

He eyed his friend, looking for some indication that Rowan would now accept his help, and grimaced when he noticed how swollen and blackened both of Rowan's eyes were. A deep gash trailed from the vamp's hairline down his forehead and ended at the bridge of his nose.

"N-no . . . kick y-yer ass if y-ya try," Rowan mumbled from between swollen and bleeding lips. The deep cuts Jax's had left on his chest continued to bleed, trails of blood spilling down the sides of his chest and stomach as he desperately tried to fend off each and every blow that came his way.

"Stop bein' such a freakin' stubborn ass," Dean snarled with fists tightly clenched, wanting nothing more than to slam them into Killeon's face for everything he had done to Rowan. "You can't beat him."

"H-have a lil' f-faith, Dea — " whatever Rowan was going to say was abruptly cut short as another fist connected with his jaw, more blood spilling from his mouth, and Dean feared that his friend couldn't go on much longer with the amount of blood that he had lost.

But as Killeon went to strike again, Rowan reached up, quicker than Dean would have thought possible in his current condition, and grabbed hold of Killeon's fist. Wrenching Killeon's arm, he pushed him off. Rowan rolled to his stomach, and through sheer determination alone, he pushed himself to his haunches and struggled to get to his feet. Swaying precariously, he raised a fist and slammed it into Killeon's face. Rowan stumbled backward from the force of the blow, and if Jax hadn't quickly moved forward to catch him, he would have fallen to the ground again.

"Sheeh . . . Dr-rean . . . I got th-this," Rowan slurred, falling back into Jax's arms.

"I gotcha," Jax muttered as he tightened his hold around Rowan, effectively trapping him from making any more attempts to go after the other vampire. "Dean, I got him you take care of Killeon."

That was all Dean needed to hear to attack the other vampire, slamming his fists into Killeon's face, gut and chest. Cocking back an arm, he threw another fist into Killeon's face, the vampire's head snapping to the side as Dean quickly followed with several well placed jabs to the ribcage. Killeon threw a punch toward Dean's face, but Dean brought up an arm and smoothly deflected it. With both arms gripping hold of Killeon's shoulders, Dean pushed him downward as he drew up a knee and bashed it into the vampire's stomach, Killeon's breath leaving him in a rush.

"Lemme go," Rowan struggled in Jax's arms, trying to break free to rejoin the fray. "Th-thizz is m-my f-fighd . . . ."

"Yer kiddin' me, right?" Jax heaved an aggravated groan as he tightened his hold even more on Rowan's squirming form. "Isn't there enough of ya splattered all over the floor already?"

Killeon lunged toward Dean, and wrapped his hands around Dean's neck, fingers biting into his throat and squeezing off his air. Dean wove his arms up through Killeon's and slammed them outward against the vampire's forearms, breaking the hold he had on him. Another quick jab to the gut and a right hook to the jaw had Killeon stumbling backward into the wall. Dean hastily bent and retrieved the knife that Killeon had dropped earlier, and then lunged at the vampire, bringing the knife up to his throat.

"Kill me now, an' his son dies," Killeon hissed through clenched teeth as he glanced in Rowan's direction. "I know where he is, Rowan . . . have my family watchin' him. You kill me, an' they kill him."

"He's lyin'," Dean said in a breathless rush, "don't listen to him, Rowan."

"North Carolina . . . sprawling cabin in the woods, does that sound at all familiar?" Killeon smirked as he eyed Dean and then once again his gaze shifted to Rowan. "House is pretty well protected, but Collin likes to go out a lot. He's got a real sweet motorcycle, custom built if I'm not mistaken."

"Dea . . . l-let 'em go," Rowan breathed, and Dean could hear the unmistakable sound of fear in his voice. "Jus' l-let 'em go . . . ."

"Can't do that, Rowan," Dean hissed, pressing the knife further into Killeon's throat, blood seeping out from beneath it.

"Pl-please . . . th-they'll kill m-my son."

"If they're watchin' him, he dead anyway," Dean cruelly surmised, "I can't let him live, Rowan, I jus' can't."

"I-I'm b-beggin' ya, Dean . . . h-he's the only really g-good thing I've ever done."

"Jus' tie him up, Dean," Jax interjected, "ya really don't know for sure that his son is dead. Don't risk his kid's life on the thought that he might already be dead."

For several very long moments, Dean stood undecided, knowing that if he let Killeon live, there would come a time when they would have to face him again. But if Rowan's son was alive, he couldn't risk his life by not doing as Rowan had asked. "Guhhh . . . find me some damn rope so we can tie him up, an' then get the hell outta here."

"Th-thanks, Dean . . . ."

"Don't thank me cause I know I'm gonna live to regret this."

Jax released his hold on Rowan, and as he went to search for rope, the older vampire slumped to his knees, and fell face first into the ground. The younger hunter made quick work of finding rope, and Dean tied Killeon up, making sure the knots were secure before he made his way over to Rowan.

Nudging his head toward Rowan, Dean said, "Help me get him up."

They hooked their arms around Rowan's back, and hefted him to his feet. Rowan's head lolled to the side, and then fell forward, remaining there as they dragged him out of the underground dwelling.


	16. Chapter 16

only one more chappy to go on this one...hope everyone enjoys... The next story(or should i say stories) are Blood Bonds which is written by me, and It Only Hurts to Breathe written by Gengen0776... and they run parallel to each other... We should begin posting as soon as Crucible is complete...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)

_Chapter Sixteen_

"You want me to what?" Jax asked incredulously, still not believing what he had heard Dean say. Pressing his index finger against his ear, he wiggled it around, feigning an attempt to clean it out. "Must not have heard ya right, cause there ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let ya cut me open jus' ta give him my blood."

"Oh, hell yeah, you are," Dean stalked to where Jax was standing in their motel room, and reached out to grab Jax's arm, but Jax pulled away from him. "Jax, stop bein' such an' ass an' help him. He's sick an' you're the only one who can."

Jax peered around Dean to look at the vampire laying sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, squirming and writhing around on top of the bedcovers. Drenched with sweat and littered with a multitude of cuts and bruises, Rowan looked as if he might die at any moment, but Jax just couldn't see how his blood would help the vampire.

"If he needs blood, then give him some of yours."

"Already did an' it's not workin' anymore."

"Then take him ta a hospital ta get a transfusion or somethin', that's what they're there for, ya know."

"If I thought they could help him, he'd already be there, now wouldn't he be?"

"No," Jax shook his head, "I jus' can't help him . . . he may not be totally responsible for what happened ta Nick an' my Mom, but he certainly didn't help matters any. Said he was gonna protect us, an' he didn't."

Done arguing with Jax over the matter, Dean half-turned as if to look at Rowan, and whipped out the knife he had concealed in his pocket. With one last look at Rowan, Dean swung back and sliced open Jax's forearm so quickly that younger man had no time to react. Dumbfounded and slack-jawed, Jax looked first to the blood dripping down his arm, and then shifted his gaze to Dean.

"You sonuvabitch," Jax breathed angrily.

"Now you have no reason not to help him, seein' as you're bleedin' anyway." Dean smirked as he gripped a hold of Jax's wrist and dragged him toward the bed. "Figured I'd just make the choice easier for ya."

"Could've argued with me a little longer first," Jax grumbled, resigning himself to the fact that he would've given in eventually if given the chance. "Would've made it seem as if it were a more heroic gesture on my part."

"Yeah, you're Batman," Dean heaved a groan, shaking his head in disbelief, "now can we get this over with so you can get back to Sam. Don't like him bein' alone with Lucifer an' Killeon around."

Dean placed his hands on either side of Rowan's head, holding him as still as possible while Jax pried open the vampire's mouth and held his bloodied arm over it. Rowan bucked and kicked, squirming as Jax's blood dripped into his mouth, and slid down the back of his throat. After several very long minutes of drinking in Jax's blood, the vampire's body went lax, a deep sigh escaping him as his eyes drifted open and then closed. Almost instantaneously, the deep gouging wounds on his chest began to heal over as the bruises to his battered face disappeared.

"Damn," Jax glanced down at his arm, and grinned sheepishly, "maybe I should freakin' bottle this stuff ta sell. Maybe call it, Jax's Miracle Blood in a Bottle. Good for whatever ails ya."

"Seriously, how does Sam put up with ya?" Dean quirked a brow as he dragged his hand through his mohawk. "Cause I've only known you for a short time, an' you're already on my last nerve."

"I usually tend ta grow on people." Jax chuckled as he pressed his hand against the gash on his arm and it instantaneously healed over. "But I was kinda thinkin' the same thing about you. An' truthfully, I'm rather surprised that Sam isn't more nuts seein' that yer his brother."

Any relief that Dean might have felt that Rowan was okay, died away at the thought of Sam. Dean fell silent as he recalled the last time he'd seen his brother. "How's Sam?" he finally asked, "is he doin' okay?"

All traces of a smile on Jax's face vanished, and he couldn't quite manage to look Dean in the eye. "Would ya rather I lie so ya can feel better about what you've done ta him, or do ya wanna hear the truth?"

"I'm doin' this for him," Dean was quick to defend his actions, yet still felt a torrential wave of guilt crash over him. "Less than five months an' this is all over, an' he'll understand why I did what I had to do."

"An' what if there's nothin' ta come back to when you're finished with whatever you're doing?"

"I didn't have a choice in the matter, it was either this or Hell. So I chose the one that would eventually allow me to go back to Sam."

Jax gave a nod of understanding, a sympathetic look gracing his boyish features. "He misses ya, Dean . . . misses ya in the worst possible way," he reiterated as he looked Dean in the eye, and Dean's stomach began to churn, fearing that Sam might just do something reckless. "An' I'm jus' not sure he can make it five more months without ya around."

"Look after him for me, Jax." Dean lowered his head as tears welled in his eyes, and he hastily brushed them aside. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or reckless trying to get me back."

"You don't even have ta ask, Dean," Jax laid a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder, "not about ta let anything happen to him."

"Thanks, Jax."

"Not a problem." Jax hitched a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the door. "Better get goin' before Sam leaves Vegas without me, an' as my car's at Bobby's that would pretty much suck out loud."

"Wait a second an' I'll drive ya," Dean offered, but Jax shook his head.

"Naww . . . it's really not all that far from here, an' if Sam sees yer Chevelle, he's never gonna let it go."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Jax made his way across the street and then down the road, all-the-while feeling as if he were being watched. Several times he stopped and looked back over his shoulder, but saw nothing behind him. Picking up his pace, he headed toward the motel that he and Sam had been staying at, but then just before coming to it, he turned and headed down a long alleyway. Leaning against the wall of a building at the far end of the narrow gape was Lucifer. With his heart in his throat, Jax swallowed hard and headed over to him.

"Did you get the amulet for me, Jax?" Lucifer asked in a voice that sounded so much like Nick's that Jax could've sworn that it was his brother had it not been for the crimson eyes.

"I want my brother back like you promised." Jax clutched firmly to the amulet in his pocket, not about to give it to the demon until he had his brother back again.

"Afraid I can't do that just yet as I'm still using him." Lucifer took a step toward Jax, and Jax instinctively took a backward step in response. "But I promise that if you give me the amulet now as soon as I'm finished with my plans, you can have him back totally unharmed in any way."

"An' what about Sam?"

"Every war has causalities, Jax." Lucifer let out a mirthless laugh as he took several more steps in Jax's direction. "But you'll have little Nick back safe an' sound. So what do you need Sam for? Not like he even thinks of ya as a friend anyway. Said as much himself, several times now."

"Even if he hated me, I still wouldn't let ya hurt him."

"So you think you could stop me?" Lucifer's laughter grew louder, reverberating off the walls of the buildings. As the sound of it crescendoed, the brick structures flanking either side of the alleyway began to crumble, bits and pieces of red brick raining down on them. "I'd really like to see you try."

Jax's fingers curled tighter around the amulet in his hand, and felt a rush of heat radiating off of it in waves. The heat surged outward, filling his entire body with a feeling of warmth and undeniable strength. "I wouldn't just try, Lucifer," Jax hissed through clenched teeth, "I would beat you. An' what's more, ya know I can, an' that scares the hell out of ya."

Jax glanced skyward and the clouds instantly darkened and swirled in an ominous fashion. The ground beneath their feet trembled as lightning splayed across the sky and hard pelting rain and fiery hail descended upon them. He looked back to Lucifer, and grinned. "Yeah, I did that. An' so if ya even think ta go near Sam or harm him in any way, I will come after you, even if it means I have ta march into Hell an' drag yer sorry ass out. Got me?"

"So you would trade your brother's life for Sam's?" Lucifer asked in clear disbelief.

"No, my brother died a long time ago . . . there's nothin' to trade."

"Huh," Lucifer shrugged his shoulders as the smirking grin returned to his face, "that's true, he is dead. But I guess there's always Becca. What was that cute little nickname you had for her," he asked. "Ahhh . . . yeah, it was Red, wasn't it. Tell me, would you trade Sam's life for hers?"

Jax sucked in a breath, his bravado crumbling like the buildings surrounding them. "Don't you touch her . . . I swear ta God if ya go anywhere near her, it'll be the last thing you ever freakin' do."

"Damn, Jax," Lucifer's grin widened as he began to laugh again, "ya better hurry then cause that little heart condition she had . . . yeah, it's about to get real bad again."

"You sonuvabitch."

Jax turned on his heel and sprinted through the alleyway, and rounding the bend, he sprinted down the street, rushing toward the motel Sam had rented. Heart lodged in his throat, he cut across several parking lots, dodging past parked cars, and headed out to the sidewalk, nearly knocking down several of people as he ran past them. Loud curses followed after him as he rounded another corner and finally came to the motel. Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the Impala still parked in the parking lot, he rushed to their motel room, and slammed his fist hard on the wooden door. Within a matter of moments, Sam answered the door, and the look of immense relief on his face quickly turned to confusion as Jax barged past him and start throwing Sam's clothes into the duffel bags.

"We gotta go now," Jax said without bothering to turn around.

"Go where?" Sam asked as he stood staring at the younger hunter. "An' where have you been? I looked everywhere for ya. Thought you might have been . . . ." Sam's voice trailed off as he quietly studied his friend, searching for injuries he might have missed when Jax rushed past him. "You okay?" he finally asked, not seeing any apparent cuts or bruises.

"Really don't have time for this, Sam." Jax swung around, his gaze darting around the room, making sure he wasn't missing anything in his hast to pack and leave. "I need ta get to North Carolina now, an' I need ya ta come with me."

"What's in North Carolina?" Sam asked as he helped Jax gather together all their hunting gear.

"Becca Sinclair," Jax breathed her name as he looked beseechingly to Sam. "She's the only girl I ever loved, Sam, an' she'll die if I don't get to her as fast as possible."

"Alright, let's go," Sam said without the slightest hesitation.

"Thanks, Sam." Jax hefted the duffel, he'd just zipped up, over his shoulder and headed for the door with Sam close behind him.

At the doorway, Sam grasped hold of Jax's arm and when he turned back, Sam gave him a slight awkward smile. "Glad you came back, an' I'm sorry for all the things I said."

"Wow, you been readin' Hallmark cards again, Sam cause that was real touching." Jabbing his hand at his heart, he smiled back at Sam, "got me right here, an' made me feel all warm an' tingly inside."

"You know you suck, right," Sam pushed him aside and strode out the door, "Couldn't have just said thanks or that you were sorry, too, could ya."

"I could've, but then you'd have nothin' to sulk about for the next three or four hundred miles."

Sam heaved an irritated groan as he opened the trunk and threw his duffel inside. "I take it back, I'm so not glad that you came back."

"Too late, Sam, can't take it back now. An' for what it's worth, I don't plan on takin' off again. So you're stuck with me."

"Lucky me," Sam tried to feign a grimace, but couldn't quite manage it as he was too happy that Jax had come back to even pretend that he was angry at him, "come on, let's go save your friend."


	17. Chapter 17

Last chappy...hope everyone enjoys... let me know if you think i should continue onward with this series here cause i think i am pretty much drowning. thanks for any input and for taking the time to read and review it really means a lot to me. bambers;)

_Chapter Seventeen_

Bobby had driven nearly non-stop to Rowan's home in North Carolina. Joshua had chattered away almost the whole way, and in between those times, he had almost bitten Bobby no less than twenty times. By the time he had reached the driveway of Rowan's cabin, Bobby was cursing Dean and Rowan and was about to rip his own hair out.

As he drove up the winding driveway, he noticed a tall wooden fence that circled around the dwelling. Putting the car in park, he got out of his truck to open the gate. Bobby traced his finger over a sigil on the gate, and then looked further down the fenceline and was impressed to see that every few feet or so, there were sigils etched into the graying wood to ward off a multitude of different kinds of evil beings.

Once the gate was opened, he got back into the car and pull inside the encampment. As he drove the rest of the way to the sprawling log cabin, he eyed several large stones that looked as if they had been cut and honed and then placed strategically in the yard. Slowing down his vehicle, he took a better look, and a smile crept across his face as he realized what Rowan had created. "It's a devil's trap," he mused aloud, and chuckled at the vampire ingenuity.

Rolling to a stop in front of the house, Bobby got out and grabbed his gear. "Come on, Jay, let's get ya inside, an' find ya a room to sleep in for the night."

Joshua yawned and stretched before rubbing his tired red-rimmed eyes. "Grizzly, when's Chipmunk comin' ta get me?"

"I don't know, hopefully soon." Having dealt with John dropping Sam and Dean off on his doorstop too many times to count, Bobby had a feeling that Dean would come around later rather than sooner.

He was just about to step inside the cabin when a motorcycle came roaring up the driveway. The driver clad in black leather and wearing no helmet, skidded to a halt, whipped off his dark aviator sunglasses and sat there glaring at Bobby.

"Mind tellin' me what you're doin' breaking into my house?" he asked as he slid off his custom built bike. "Or do I have to beat the hell out of you?"

"Not breakin' in," Bobby hefted the keys he was holding into the air to show the man, "got the keys from the owner."

Raking his fingers through his thick black wind-blown hair, he narrowed his greenish-blue eyes on Bobby. "Seein' as I'm the owner, an' I know I didn't give ya the damn keys, I would say that's impossible."

"Doesn't this house belong to Rowan St. Christen?" Bobby asked at the end of his patience with the younger man.

"Damn it," the man stalked over to the house and up the staircase, coming to stand directly in front of Bobby, "he had no freakin' right to send you here. He gave me this freakin' place, an' I'll be damned if I let strangers come bargin' in jus' cause he's feelin' generous."

"I take it you don't get along with your father," Bobby said, surmising that the only person Rowan would give this place to was his child. He had to give the vampire credit again as he realized this was probably the safest place a person could ever hope to live in, and imagined that he had it built especially with his son in mind.

"Father?" the young man scoffed as he stormed into the house with Bobby and Joshua following close behind. "I've never laid freakin' eyes on the man. To me he's just the man who signs the checks an' pays the bills."

"Listen, umm . . . ."

"The name's Collin," the young man called over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen, grabbed a beer out the refrigerator, and crack it open. "An' like I said before, you're not stayin', so you may as well turn around an' head back to wherever it is you came from."

"Look, Collin, your father will be here in a few days to get Jay, an' I'm not goin' anywhere until he does."

"You're lyin'." Collin took a swig of his beer as he eyed Bobby and then his gaze shifted to Joshua, "He never comes here cause he knows I would never stick around if he did."

"Then you can go," Bobby muttered, finished with trying to reason with the younger man. "I made Rowan a promise that I would bring Joshua here and keep him safe, an' I don't intend on breaking my word."

"Oh . . . damn," Collin rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter, "tell me you're not one of those crazies that believes in all those symbols and crap he's got spread across the yard. I would've gotten rid of all of them if my lawyer hadn't said I would be disinherited if I did."

"You're father's a smart man."

"Like I said before, I wouldn't know, so I'll have to take your word on it." Hopping up on the black-marbled counter top, Collin leaned back against the cupboard and pulled up one leg to rest on the smooth marble surface and let the other dangle over the side. "Seein' how I'll probably be disinherited if I don't agree to let you an' the little boy stay, I'll give you two days. If my father doesn't show up by that time, then I'm kickin' you both out of here. Understood?"

"He'll be here," Bobby assured, but had a sinking feeling he would be looking for a new place to stay in a few days time.

"Yeah, well don't hold your breath. My father has a real way of disappointing people."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"You almost done in there, Rowan," Dean asked as he impatiently rapped on the bathroom door. "I'm sure the water's gotta be ice freakin' cold by now."

"Naww . . . it's not," he heard the vampire call out from inside the shower, "but it will be by the time I'm finished."

"You know, other people might've wanted a shower as well." Dean grimaced, and clutched a hold of his stomach, feeling both hungry and sick at the same time.

"Other people shouldn't have jumped in when I clearly said I could handle Killeon myself," Rowan shot back, and then Dean heard the vampire chuckling. "Now other people can either take an ice cold shower or they can wait till we get to the next motel to take one."

"Damn it, you were gettin' your ass kicked, an' you're pissed cause I helped ya out?" Dean slumped down beside the door, and wiped the sheen of sweat from his face, surprised at how incredibly warm his forehead felt. "Should've let him tear ya apart, would've that made ya happy?"

"Didn't need your freakin' help," Rowan's voice rose in anger, "would've asked if I did."

"When would you've asked, Rowan?" Dean snapped as he rubbed his eyes, feeling a sudden burning pain gathering behind them. "When you were splattered all across the floor, cause you pretty much were."

"Don't really freakin' care if he'd ripped my damn head off, I still wouldn't have needed your help." Rowan flung open the door, and strode out of the bathroom wearing only a towel slung low over his hips. He glanced around for a moment and then lowered his gaze to where Dean was crouched on the floor with his arms now wrapped around his head. "What's wrong, Dean?" He immediately dropped down beside Dean, his anger forgotten as he looked concernedly at the young hunter.

"Feel sick, Rowan," Dean muttered as he curled himself up into an even tighter ball.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah," Dean held his breath as another wave of fiery pain tore through his head, "b-but that's not it."

"Dean," Rowan reached out and cupped a hold Dean's chin and forced him to look up at him. "Exactly how much of Lucifer's blood did you drink?"

"Don't know . . . wasn't measurin'."

"Damn it, Dean, that was a stupid thing to do." Rowan's hand trailed up to Dean's forehead, and cursed under his breath as he felt how warm his friend was, and knew it would get a lot worse before it hopefully got better. "You didn't happen to think of drinking any of Jax's blood yourself, did you?"

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Cause you're gonna get sick, Dean, an' when I say sick I mean real sick. An' I was kinda hopin' that if ya had drank some of Jax's blood, you'd be okay."

"Jus' need a couple aspirin." Pushing Rowan's hand away from his face, Dean braced his hands against the ground and with a fair amount of effort, pushed himself to his feet. "Get dressed, we have to go an' get Joshua from Bobby." With the room shifting in and out of focus, Dean slowly made his way across the room and began to pack away his clothes in his duffel.

"A couple of aspirin isn't gonna fix this, Dean." Rowan was on his feet in a shot, following after him. He gripped hold of Dean's arm and swung him around to face him, and luckily caught hold of Dean before he lost his footing and crashed to the ground.

"Let go of me," Dean pushed him away, and nearly fell backward again, but somehow managed to regain his balance. "Said I'm okay."

"Are you that freakin' stupid, Dean?" Rowan fumed as he stalked back and forth in front of Dean, his anger increasing by the moment. "Damn it, you're not okay. In fact, you're as far away from being okay as you're ever gonna get." He hesitated in his pacing, and turned to glare at Dean, his steady gaze traveling over Dean's lean frame as if in disgust, and then looked back up at his throat. "Where the hell is your freakin' amulet?"

Groping for the leather strap around his throat, Dean cursed under his breath. "Jax ripped it off my neck, so I'm guessin' it's wherever he is."

"Oh, well, that's just great," Rowan huffed as he threw up his arms in utter frustration. "An' it didn't cross your mind at all to ask for it back?"

"Was a little busy helpin' your sorry ass out to think of it."

"How many damn times do I have to tell ya that I don't need your freakin' help?" He took a step closer to Dean, coming face to face with him. "Lived for over two thousand years without it, an' managed quite well."

"I've done alright on my own, too, Rowan, so why don't ya jus' get the hell out of here," Dean snarled as he forcefully pushed the vampire away from him, and stumbled backward himself, falling onto the bed. With increasing effort, he slowly made his way to his feet, swaying precariously as the room became more and more hazy. "I don't need you around to tell me how I've screwed up. I've got Michael for that."

"You want me to go, fine." Rowan turned his back on Dean, bent and snatched up his duffel and threw it on the table."But don't even think to call me when you're in so much freakin' pain, you'll actually think your brain's turned to liquid fire, cause I won't be around to help." Rummaging through the contents of his bag, he yanked out a clean t-shirt, jeans and boxers. He slipped on the boxers and then let the towel fall to the floor to pool at his feet before kicking it away from himself.

"Is it really gonna get that bad?" Dean mumbled as he took several unsteady steps, and then was forced to grip a hold of the back of a chair before he stumbled and fell flat on his face.

"Probably worse," Rowan managed to utter as he turned to look at Dean, the anger slipping from his hawkish features. "You could die, Dean."

"But, I'm a vampire . . . ."

"An' Lucifer is a demon, see where I'm goin' with this?" When Dean raised a brow and scratched his head in confusion, Rowan further elaborated, "Imagine it like a game of poker . . . you, Dean, at best are a full house, twos over threes. Lucifer, on the other hand, is an ace high royal flush. An' I can tell ya one thing for certain, there ain't no way in hell to bluff your way out of losin' this hand."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"We?" Rowan quirked a brow, and then shook his head. "No, what are you gonna do? I'm not stickin' around for this. I can't stand by an' watch you die, Dean. I've watched too many damn people die in my lifetime, an' I just won't do it again."

"You can't be serious? You can't jus' leave me to die. What about Joshua?" Dean reached out to grab hold of Rowan's arm, terrified that the vampire would leave him alone to die, and stumbled, falling into Rowan's arms.

"Okay, so this is awkward," Rowan muttered as he glanced down at Dean's head resting against his bare chest. Taking a hold of Dean's arm, he guided him to a chair and helped him to sit down. Without looking at Dean, he grabbed for his jeans, slid them on and pulled on his t-shirt. "I've got to go, Dean. Call Sam, tell him where you are an' say your goodbyes."

"I'm not givin' up."

"Seeing that Jax has your amulet, I don't see what other choice you have." Rowan slung his duffel over his shoulder and headed for the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he heaved a weary sigh, and looked back to Dean. "I'm sorry, Dean, I just can't stay." With that he opened the door and walked away.


End file.
